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GET RIGHT BACK TO YOUR PLACE” 



The Rambler Club’s 
Ball Nine 

BY W. CRISPIN SHEPPARD 


AUTHOR OF 


“THE RAMBEER 
“THE RAMBEER 
“THE RAMBEER 
“THE RAMBEER 
“THE RAMBEER 
“THE RAMBEER 
“THE RAMBEER 
“THE RAMBEER 
“THE RAMBEER 


CEUB AFEOAT*' 

CEUB’S WINTER CAMP” 

CEUB IN THE MOUNTAINS” 

CEUB ON CIRCEE T RANCH” 

CEUB AMONG THE EUMBERJACKS” 
CEUB’S GOED MINE” 

CEUB’S AEROPEANE” 

CEUB’S HOUSEBOAT” 

CEUB’S MOTOR CAR” 


Illustrated by the Author 



THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
PHILADELPHIA 
MCMXIII 




COFYEIGHT 
1913 BY 
THE PENN 
PUBUSHING 
COMPANY 









Introduction 


The Rambler Club of Kingswood, Wiscon- 
sin, formed by Bob Somers and his friends, 
Dave Brandon, Tom Clifton, Dick Travers 
and Sam Randall, after having numerous ad- 
ventures in their own state, visit Oregon, 
Wyoming, Washington and New York. In 
the mountains, on the plains, or deep amidst 
the forest the five lads taste the joys, and 
also the trials, of outdoor life, and in most 
unexpected or thrilling situations manage to 
acquit themselves with credit. In the East, 
a house-boat trip up the Hudson furnishes 
the club an eventful journey, while on a 
motoring trip from Chicago to Kingswood 
another series of surprising and unusual 
events befall them. 

The adventures of the Rambler Club are 
told in the following books : “ The Rambler 
Club Afioat,” The Rambler Club’s Winter 
Camp,” “ The Rambler Club in the Moun- 
tains,” The Rambler Club on Circle T 
Ranch,” The Rambler Club Among the 
3 


4 


Introduction 


Lumberjacks/^ “ The Rambler Club’s Gold 
Mine,” “ The Rambler Club’s Aeroplane,” 
The Rambler Club’s House-Boat ” and The 
Rambler Club’s Motor Car.” 

Now the lads are back at the Kingswood 
High School, from which they will graduate 
at the end of the term. Fired with an am- 
bition to put new life into the athletic affairs 
of the school. Bob Somers and his friends take 
a hand and work some surprising changes. 
Their zeal and enthusiasm are further aroused 
by a certain offer made to the school by the 
town’s most wealthy citizen, Mr. Rupert 
Barry. 

“ The Rambler Club’s Ball Nine,” however, 
greatly to the boys’ astonishment, becomes 
the means of plunging the entire school into 
the most turbulent period of its existence. 
No one can foresee the outcome of the fac- 
tional struggle until it is ended in a manner 
quite as surprising as the disturbance itself. 

When the atmosphere finally clears observ- 
ing students of the High ” feel that they 
have learned many valuable lessons. 

W. Crispin Sheppard. 


Contents 


I. 

The New Ball Field 


9 

II. 

Mr. Barry 


. 22 

III. 

The “Retreat” 


. 30 

IV. 

The List of Players 


. 44 

V. 

The Grumblers 


. 56 

VI. 

The First Game 


. 70 

VII. 

Four to Nothing 


• 77 

VIII. 

Discouragement 


. 102 

IX. 

Mr. Barry Asks Questions 


. 116 

X. 

The “Fearless” Arrives . 


. 125 

XI. 

Good Baseball Weather . 


. 136 

XII. 

“ For the Good of the School 

tt 

. 148 

XIII. 

The Challenge 


. 163 

XIV. 

Rebellion .... 


. 174 

XV. 

A Decision 


. 187 

XVI. 

Tom Is “ Rattled ” . 


• 197 

XVII. 

Benny Wins a Note-Book 


. 211 

XVIII. 

The President Speaks 


. 226 

XIX. 

The Verdict of the School 


. 236 

XX. 

The Wish of the Majority 


. 250 

XXI. 

Rockville Is Puzzled 


. 264 

XXII. 

Plain Talk 


. 279 

XXIII. 

Bob Scores at Last . 


. 292 

XXIV. 

The “ Hopes ” Are Blasted 


. 308 


6 



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Illustrations 


“ Get Right Back to Your Place ” . Frontispiece 

“ It’s For the Good of the School ” . *59 

“ What Is the Matter With the Ball 

Nine?” 119 

“ I Know Your Game ” 199 

The Soap Box Was Shoved Violently . .280 


The Rambler Club’s Ball Nine. 


7 


¥ 


The Rambler Club’s Ball 
Nine 


CHAPTER I 

THE NEW BALL FIELD 

Great Scott I Maybe that chap can^t 
run I ” 

You^re right, Earl. But it will take 
more than running, to beat the Stars and 
Goose Hill fellows, to say nothing of Rock- 
ville Academy. That crowd over there cer- 
tainly has a corking team. Say, Roycroft, 
you ought to be on Bob Somers' nine." 

Earl Roycroft, a six-foot boy weighing 
almost two hundred pounds, settled his big 
frame in a more comfortable position on the 
rail fence. His eyes mechanically followed 
the runners speeding one after another around 
a lot used by the Kingswood High School 
students as a baseball and training field. 

9 


10 


The Rambler Club’s 


‘‘ Why, it isn^t Bob Somers^ team ; it^s the 
schoohs, Nat,’’ he protested, mildly. 

Nat Wingate, a handsome, dark-haired boy 
with flashing brown eyes, smiled. 

Well, Somers seems to be having things 
pretty much his own way,’^ he answered. 

When I was captain, last year, it was 
mighty different. Stand up for your rights, 
Roycroft. The team needs a great big chap 

like you, and 

Great Scott, but he can sprint I 
Well, it would be mighty funny if a 
fellow who has such long legs as Tom Clifton 
couldnT sprint,’^ returned Nat, dryly. 

The crisp crack of a bat suddenly attracted 
his attention. Then he caught sight of the 
ball describing a long, graceful curve. He 
watched the sphere flashing against the blue 
sky until it had reached such a height as to 
appear but the merest speck, and then as it 
swiftly dropped and was plucked from space 
by a slender boy in the outfield. 

Good catch for Charlie Blake,^’ exclaimed 
Roycroft. 

And there was some class to the hit, too,’’ 
commented Nat. I don’t think any of the 


Ball Nine 


11 


Rambler fellows swung the stick on that one. 
Whoever he is, I wouldn’t mind having him 
on my team.” 

'' Humph I Don’t you recognize that chap? 
It’s Joe Rodgers.” 

Gee whiz I The young fellow the Ram- 
blers brought back with ’em on their motor 
car trip last fall ? ” 

Exactly ! ” laughed Earl. Dave Bran- 
don has been looking out for Joe, and got him 
a job on Mr. Miles’ farm. He goes to school 
every day with a lot of little chaps about half 
his age. But Mr. Miles says, from the way 
Joe’s learning, he’ll soon put all us high 
school fellows in the has-been class. Come 
on, Nat. I want to get a whack at that ball 
myself.” 

Nat Wingate eased himself off the fence, 
flecked a few spots of dust from his clothes, 
and followed the big form of Earl Roy- 
croft. 

‘‘ My crowd is going to get the first whack 
at the Rambler Club’s ball nine, Roy,” he 
exclaimed. 

A peculiarly sarcastic expression came over 
his face as Roy flung back : 


12 The Rambler Club’s 

“ Cut that out, Nat. You mean the school 
team/^ 

Last season we trimmed the Goose Hill 
bunch/^ went on Wingate. “ You know what 
a husky lot they are. Tony Tippen was in 
the box for us. If any of the scouts from the 
big leagues ever get to this burg I shouldn’t 
wonder a bit if they’d snap him up.” 

I’d be satisfied with the minors,” laughed 
Earl. “ Whew I The air is kind of chilly to- 
day, Nat. Roger Steele didn’t think he’d 
have the boys practicing outside of the gym 
until next week. Great Scott, but that fellow 
can sprint I ” 

‘‘Wonder if he learned the trick by having 
wildcats chase him out of the woods,” 
laughed Nat. “ Ha, ha I We met one once. 
John Hackett and our crowd ran across the 
Ramblers on their first trip, and ” 

A salvo of cheers suddenly interrupted his 
sentence, and upon looking up to see the 
cause of it the captain of the Kingswood Stars 
saw a stout, round-faced boy advancing lei- 
surely to the home plate. 

“ Ha, ha ! We’re going to see the new 
editor of the high school ‘ Reflector ’ in action. 


Ball Nine 


>3 

Did you read the last copy of that sheet, 
Earl ? 

Roycroft nodded. 

“ Sure thing, Nat. Dave has written a his- 
tory of the Rambler Club. The first instal- 
ment appears in the ‘ Refiector’s ^ next issue. 
Guess there isnT a fellow in the school who 
won’t dive into his pocket for a nickel. Hello, 
Spearman I ” 

A boy almost as tall as himself, but of a 
lighter build, stepped from among a crowd of 
noisy students and walked toward them. 
Harry Spearman had prominent aquiline fea- 
tures and a manner which suggested a nerv- 
ous, high-strung disposition. 

I tell you, Roycroft, these fellows are go- 
ing to give a good account of themselves,” he 
began. ** Steele and Somers have just the 
right idea of training. Don’t push your men 
too hard, they say, but keep them always on 
the move. Roger Steele’ll soon have a crowd 
of base-runners that will make some of the 
fellows on the other teams look as slow as so 
many ice wagons.” 

A shade crossed Earl’s face. Bob Somers 
had often expressed the opinion that if the 


»4 


The Rambler Club’s 

big fellow only possessed a little more speed 
he would make one of the best players in the 
school. But, while Roycroft was good at al- 
most every other angle of the game, he was 
sometimes apt to slip up when quick action 
was absolutely necessary. 

Better not boast too much, Harry, 
grinned Nat. Wait until the Ramblers 
stack up against the Stars. We expect to 
pull off a few plays that may make ^em seem 
like never-wassers. The Rockville football 
eleven came over last fall, you know, and 
Bob Somers^ crowd didiiT cut any great figure 
in the game.’^ 

Harry Spearman’s eyes snapped scornfully. 

Suppose they did beat us ? That isn’t 
much to brag about,” he retorted. “ When 
the Ramblers got back to school this term 
there was no athletic association ; everything 
was disorganized — you know that, Win- 
gate ” 

‘‘ Gee I Another dandy hit,” broke in Roy- 
croft. Dave Brandon certainly smacked the 
ball that time. Look at it — still sailing. I’ll 
bet it’s bound for Rockville.” 

Of course you do, Nat,” went on Harry, 


Ball Nine 


>5 


paying no attention to this interruption. 

Before, it was all hit or miss — mostly miss ; 
and nobody seemed to care.^^ 

Correct, added Earl. Bob plunged 
right in, and, with up-to-the-minute plans, 
got the athletic association started, football 
and baseball committees formed, and made 
arrangements with all the various schools 
around to play a regular schedule of games.^^ 

** Oh, I suppose he has your big colleges 
beaten to a frazzle on the fine points of the 
game,” exclaimed Nat, with a barely percep- 
tible sneer. 

Earl Roycroft laughed softly. He knew 
that it wouldn’t take much to start a lively 
wrangle between Wingate and Spearman, as 
Nat was of a highly impetuous nature, while 
the latter’s principal characteristics were nerv- 
ousness and excitability. But he found it 
easy to stem the tide of belligerency which 
seemed on the point of beginning. 

Freshmen, sophomores, juniors and seniors, 
mingling in a fraternal spirit, formed scat- 
tered groups all over the lot, occasionally 
yelling with as much vigor and enthusiasm 
as though about to witness a championship 


i6 The Rambler Club’s 

game. Many wore purple and white sweaters, 
and these garments added a touch of bright 
color to the still barren landscape. 

There’s ‘ Jack Frost ’ in the box, fellows,” 
remarked Earl. “ He has a slow ball that will 
puzzle the Rockville boys. I’ve been up against 
it, and I know. Comes so slow that you almost 
fall asleep waiting for it to pass over the plate.” 

William Frost was the name of the player 
in question, though, of course, his schoolmates 
generally called him Jack.” 

“ And Tony Tippen has an inshoot that 
would make the Cannon Ball Express look 
like a slow freighter,” laughed Nat. Gee, I 
wish the next two weeks would roll around 
fast. I guess you high school fellows are in 
for a pretty hard jolt. We hate to do it, too, 
for this is a mighty poor ball field, and a few 
lambastings will probably knock all that fine 
Rupert Barry business in the head.” 

‘‘ Oh, it will, eh ? ” sniffed Spearman. 

Next season the Purple and White team 
will be using that new ball park, and we’ll 
have a grand stand, besides.” 

''Sorry to have to put that happy train of 
thought off* the track,” chuckled Nat. " Have 


Ball Nine 


17 

you forgotten the Goose Hill crowd and a few 
others ? 

It wouldn’t faze us if they were major 
leaguers.” 

‘‘ Hello, you ‘ Pie-eaters ’ ; hello I Where’s 
the rest of the ^ Doughnut ’ crowd ? ” 

This hail, coming in very gruff* tones from 
the tall sprinter who had excited Earl Hoy- 
croft’s admiration, made Nat Wingate’s eyes 
glitter ominously. 

“ The nerve of that Tom Clifton is getting 
my nerve,” he commented, in a low tone. 

It beats me how some of the chaps are will- 
ing to swallow all he hands out.” 

He doesn’t seem to like the idea of us 
swallowing pie,” laughed Roycroft. 

By this time the tallest senior in the school 
had almost reached the group. Tom Clifton, 
bubbling over with good spirits, eyed Nat 
quizzically. 

“ Still making the pies over at Guffin’s do 
the disappearing act? ” he asked. 

Yes I And the doughnuts are following 
the same route.” 

How is it that Kirk Talbot didn’t come 
over to see us practicing? ” 


i8 The Rambler Club’s 

“ Kirk had something more important on 
hand. He went to a moving picture show 
instead.^^ 

I’ll bet it was a nickel one,” snickered 
Tom. We’re getting ready for your crowd, 
Nat. Thanks, Roycroft ! I can go some. I’ll 
do better yet. Wait till you see me making 
the circuit of the bases. And when we get 
that new field — well ! We’ll make some of 
the ‘ Pie-eaters and doughnut crowd ’ lose 
their appetites.” 

Tom Clifton’s gaze roved over the rather 
uneven field, which was situated some dis- 
tance from the rear of the Kingswood High 
School. Great patches of weeds and small 
saplings had been leveled to the ground and 
hollow places filled in by the willing hands 
of the boys. But even all the zeal and en- 
thusiasm with which they had worked could 
not make the result of their labor a joy and 
delight. This particular field seemed to have 
a grudge against all athletic sports. Treach- 
erous little bumps or depressions, as well as 
other irregularities, had often spoiled what 
might have been brilliant plays. 

And now, Tom refiected, after a whole 


Ball Nine 


19 


winter of neglect, conditions looked more 
unpromising than ever. It did not at all fit 
in with his ideas of what the Kingswood 
High School boys deserved, especially when 
he considered the new lease of life which Bob 
Somers, ably assisted by his friends, had in- 
jected into the athletic affairs of the school. 

To the north, the three story stone building 
of the school, the center of which was sur- 
mounted by a cupola, shone brightly in the 
afternoon sun. Beyond the residences which 
hemmed in the large lot on all sides several 
towers and domes indicated the business por- 
tion of Kingswood. It all made a very pleas- 
ing picture. 

But Tom Clifton did not allow his thoughts 
to stray very long from the actual work in 
hand. He was too anxious to get in the thick 
of the fray again, and pull down some of the 
‘‘sky-scrapers” which little Joe Rodgers was 
batting out with remarkable precision. 

“ Say, Nat, that chap is a corker,” he de- 
clared. “ Stand wherever you please, and 
he’ll put the horse-hide right into your hands. 
Gee — see that I ” 

“ What ? ” asked Nat. 


20 


The Rambler Club’s 


Why, the way Blake picked up Dave’s 
grounder — one handed, too ! By Jove, it was 
a scorcher ! Where are you going, Roy croft ? ” 

“ To bat,” answered Earl, with a laugh. 

Come on, Spearman.” 

Good ! Try to knock me down. I’ll 
show you a few fancy stunts, Nat.” 

“ We are reserving ours until Saturday 
week,” returned Wingate. That’s right, 
Tom. Snicker all you want. But it’s the 
snickers which come after the game that 
count.” 

Tom’s reply was not audible, as there was 
too much noise. Some hundred schoolboys, 
whose vocal organs were in excellent con- 
dition, seemed to be desirous of learning just 
how much sound they could produce at a 
given moment. 

Bob Somers had pulled down one of Joe 
Rodgers’ drives after a long, hard run, and 
although the force of the impact had sent him 
rolling over and over on the ground, the 
sphere was safe in his hands. 

“ Bully — bully ! ” cried Tom, as the shouts 
subsided. “ See you later, Nat.” 

“ Hold on. Tommy,” said Wingate. A 


Ball Nine 


21 


quizzical smile was playing about his lips. 
A restraining hand seized Tom Clifton's wrist. 

Anything the matter with your optics to-day, 
son ? " 

“ Why ? " queried Tom, in surprise. 

“ Haven't they lighted on anything yet, 
eh?" 

“ Yes ; a whole lot of dandy plays." 

That isn't what I mean." 

The earnest manner of his companion made 
Tom eagerly scan the field. He saw a dozen 
balls flying about in all directions, students in 
purple and white sweaters dashing from place 
to place, and “ Jack Frost" engaged in send- 
ing in a variety of curves to Phil Brentall, 
the backstop. He also saw the ball being 
snapped from first to third and back again 
with great rapidity. 

But the fact that he was not looking in the 
right direction was speedily impressed upon 
his mind when Nat shoved him around in a 
most unceremonious fashion. 

“ Now what do you see ? " demanded Nat. 

Gee whiz — goodness gracious I " cried Tom 
— Mr. Rupert Barry." 


CHAPTER II 


MR. BARRY 

A TALL, thin man, who, although some- 
what elderly, seemed to walk with all the 
alertness of youth, was directing his course 
toward the players. He wore a long, faded, 
dusty-looking black coat and a derby hat of 
an equally old appearance. 

Mr. Rupert Barry, one of the best known 
and wealthiest citizens of Kingswood, had re- 
tired from active business many years before, 
and, with only a man and wife who acted as 
housekeepers, resided in a stately mansion 
which crowned the summit of a hill. Mr. 
Barry was not partial to visitors. Only a select 
few had entered his doors. Those who did 
spoke enthusiastically of a collection of bric-a- 
brac and paintings which his house contained. 

None of the present generation remembered 
having ever seen Mr. Barry in other than his 
old-fashioned coat and derby hat. It was a 
22 


Ball Nine 


23 


standing puzzle whether the coat and hat re- 
fused to be worn out, or whether, by some 
mysterious process, he was able, year in and 
year out, to procure garments of exactly the 
same color and texture. 

Mr. Barry seldom appeared without a dog 
to keep him company. And these animals, 
which had succeeded one another up to the 
present time, generally possessed but little 
beauty. 

On this occasion the dog which kept close 
to the elderly gentleman ^s heels was a large, 
shaggy creature of a yellowish hue, with a 
quarrelsome look in his eye. 

“ Now it^s time to get out on the field and 
pull off some of those pretty stunts, Tom,^^ 
advised Nat Wingate. “It may make him 
take down a few of those no-trespassing signs 
on that lot of his.^' 

“ That^s right,” laughed Tom. “ It fairly 
bristles with ^em. ^ Trespassers dealt with 
according to law ’ ; ‘ Private property ' ; ‘ No 
thoroughfare ^ ' Keep out ’ ; ' Any one found 
depositing ashes or refuse on this lot will be 
prosecuted.’ Have I missed any, Nat? ” 

“ Just one,” chuckled Wingate, “ over on the 


24 


The Rambler Club’s 


northeast corner : ‘ Intruders will be promptly 
ejected/ It^s a wonder he hasn’t a few Gatling 
guns planted around.” 

“And just to think,” mused Tom, “he’s 
going to give that field to us ! ” 

“ Well, I like your cheek,” blazed out Nat. 
“ You must think you’re the whole show. Do 
you know what my idea is ? ” 

“ Guess I will in a minute.” 

“ Mr. Barry knows it’s such a safe proposi- 
tion that you fellows will get trimmed all 
around ” 

“ Oh, get out, you * Pie-eater ’ I howled 
Tom. “ Take a doughnut. It looks like a 
cipher — meaning nothing for you I ” 

“ We can eat up lots of things besides dough- 
nuts,” said Nat, sarcastically. “ I’m going to 
trail Mr. Rupert Barry.” 

“ So am I.” 

As they walked briskly toward the scene of 
action the noise and the cracks of the bats 
seemed to be greater than ever. 

By this time Mr. Barry had almost reached 
the high board fence which served as a back- 
stop and score-board. 

It was at once observed that Dave Brandon 


Ball Nine 


25 


had stopped practicing and was coming for- 
ward to meet their visitor. Bob Somers, too, 
was walking in from the outfield. 

By Jupiter, they Ve almost falling over 
themselves/^ jeered Nat. ‘‘ I want to hear 
some of the soft stuff they hand out. Bet 
they’ll have a tremolo in their voices.” 

Nat Wingate had the ability to provoke a 
wrangle at almost any moment. A hot flush 
mounted to Tom’s face. He was too eager, 
however, to learn the reason for Mr. Barry’s 
descent upon the ball field to reply. 

In and out through the noisy groups he led 
the way, soon hearing above the medley of 
sound the harsh, rasping voice of Kingswood’s 
eccentric citizen. 

I never could understand why boys have 
to make such a confounded racket while 
they’re playing ball,” he jerked out, impa- 
tiently. Good energy all gone to waste. Lie 
down, Canis ! ” 

The yellow dog seemed to have taken a 
great dislike to the proceedings going on 
all about him, and was giving voice to this 
feeling by a series of savage snarls and 
barks. 


26 


The Rambler Club’s 


Long distance conversation for me/' 
laughed Wingate. His ivories seem to be in 
good working condition.^' 

ril bet he's as yellow inside as out/' 

chuckled Tom. '' One good kick " 

‘‘ And any hope for your ball field would 
be gone forever." 

‘‘Don't stop for me, Somers." Mr. Barry 
was speaking. He waved a large, knotty cane 
peremptorily in the direction of the outfield. 
“ Get right back to your place." His stick 
struck sharply against the wooden fence. 
“ Here, here, you boys over there : quit that 
howling ; quit it, I say ! " 

The students who had been applauding a 
difficult pick-up by Charlie Blake obeyed his 
authoritative command. 

“ That's better. What's the use of howling 
like a pack of young pirates ? " 

“ If it ain't any use, it's lots of fun, mister." 
A stocky, freckle-faced boy, handling a very 
large bat, gave this answer. “ And sometimes 
it puts a whole lot of ginger into the crowd," 
he added. 

“ What's your name ? " 

“Joe Rodgers." 


Ball Nine 


V 

Do you go to the high school ? Keep 
quiet, Canis \ ” 

“ Not yet, sir/’ 

'‘Then why are you practicing on this 
field ? ” 

“ ’Cause they let me.” 

“ As bold as brass,” murmured Mr. Barry, 
in audible tones. “ Somers, I believe I 
requested you to keep right on with your 
playing.” 

Mr. Barry looked at the captain of the nine 
as sternly as though he were some culprit 
caught trespassing on his field. The afternoon 
sun played on an angular, smooth-shaven face 
and a pair of cold gray eyes. There was noth- 
ing in his expression to indicate any great 
sympathy with youth or their pastimes. But 
it was observable that, even as he spoke, his 
gaze was continually shifting from one group 
to another. 

“This is the first day we have practiced 
outside of the gym, Mr. Barry,” began Bob. 
“ You see it was such a bully day ” 

“ I must request that you eliminate such 
words as ‘ bully ’ when addressing me,” in- 
terrupted the visitor, stiffly. 


28 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Would you like to have a little bat-out 
and catch, Mr. Barry ? asked Nat Wingate, 
in a very innocent tone. 

I know you of old, Wingate,’^ returned 
the other, frigidly. “ You may direct your 
remarks elsewhere. What did you say, Bran- 
don?^’ 

“ That we seem to be rounding out in pretty 
good shape, Mr. Barry ; and 

“ I didn’t come over to hear any boasting.” 

His figure rounded out in pretty poor 
shape years ago, so I’m told,” put in a tall, 
aggressive-looking lad to whom Nat had just 
beckoned. 

Mr. Barry turned sharply upon him, took a 
good look, and then remarked : 

“ I don’t think I ever saw you before, boy.” 

I don’t think I ever saw you before, 
either.” 

And what might your name be ? ” 

^‘Owen Lawrence. You see, our folks just 
moved to Kingswood. Of course I had to go 
to school somewhere, and so I’m a student at 
the High.” 

And if you have any sense you’ll stick 
there until you get a good education,” snapped 


29 


Ball Nine 

the irascible old gentleman. Drat that con- 
founded dog I Keep still, Canis I If you 
boys have as much spirit in training as he 
has out of training you’ll do. Now don’t 
stand around gaping as if you’d never seen a 
man before. Go back to practice.” 

Mr. Barry had a way about him which im- 
pelled obedience to his will. For fully fifteen 
minutes, under his critical observation, the 
boys played with a dash and vim that might 
have brought a smile of approval from almost 
any one else. 

Then, without a word of comment, he waved 
his knotty stick in the direction of the captain 
of the nine, and, closely followed by the yellow 
dog, stalked back in the direction from whence 
he had come. 


CHAPTER III 


THE RETREAT 

Not far from the high school, at the end of 
a long row of houses, stood an unpretentious 
two-story frame building painted white. Big 
black letters almost covering the width of the 
house announced that therein was located 
Terry Guffin's Student Retreat.’^ 

Terry had lived in the White House ” long 
enough to know generation after generation 
of schoolboys. His pies, doughnuts and cakes 
were famous ; so were his chops. And many 
an old “ grad who had left his student days 
far behind found it convenient to return to 
Kingswood so that he might see the round, 
red face of Mr. Guffin, and once more partake 
of his tasty wares. 

The interior of the Student Retreat was 
filled with interesting souvenirs of school life 
— photographs, sketches, bits of writing — each 
possessing a significance dear to the heart of 
30 


Ball Nine 


3 ‘ 

Terry GuflSn. There were rather curious paint- 
ings, too, on door panels, or over mantel- 
pieces, which showed ambition, if not high 
artistic ability. The largest and most impor- 
tant, painted on real canvas, with a gold frame 
around it, and hanging so conspicuously that 
all who entered must rest their gaze upon it, 
was signed David Brandon.’* 

The picture represented a wild stampede of 
cattle on the plains. Cowboys, terror-stricken 
animals, and clouds of dust were depicted in 
a spirit which had often aroused the enthu- 
siasm of visitors to the Retreat. 

At the rear of the building, a large yard 
enclosed by a high board fence was a favorite 
spot with many of the students, for tables, 
with the whitest of table-cloths, and comfort- 
able chairs were placed temptingly about. 
Several trees and palms, together with a 
number of small flower beds, helped, in warm 
weather, to make the place very attractive. 

When Nat Wingate and Owen Lawrence 
entered the Retreat,” late that afternoon, 
their ears told them before they reached the 
yard that it had been captured by a crowd of 
lively boys. And the new student of the 


32 The Rambler Club’s 

Kingswood school immediately noted that his 
companion seemed to be highly popular. 

Hello, Nat I Hello I ” came from half a 
dozen throats. 

^‘Zip — boom — hooray for the captain of 
the Stars I called out a boy almost as tall as 
Tom Clifton. 

Hello, Hackett I Hello, Talbot I greeted 
Nat. “ Gee — there’s ‘ Crackers,’ too. Howdy, 
everybody I Fellows, let me introduce Owen 
Lawrence.” 

The latter was busy for a few moments 
exchanging salutations. Then he plumped 
himself down on a chair, which the smiling 
Terry Guffin pushed toward him. 

Mr. Guffin was pleased — the round, cheru- 
bic face under his chef’s white cap plainly 
showed it. A new customer to the ‘^Retreat” 
generally meant a permanent customer so 
long as he remained a boy — and sometimes 
after. 

Owen was soon holding a rapid-fire talk 
with Kirk Talbot, John Hackett, Benny Wil- 
kins, Ted Pollock, and a heavy-set, stoop- 
shouldered boy wearing spectacles, and who 
was invariably addressed as '' Crackers.” 


Ball Nine 


33 

^ Crackers ^ queried Owen, at one of 
the infrequent pauses. 

The heavy-set boy flushed slightly. A 
ripple of mirth was communicated to various 
groups. 

“ Ha, ha I ” grinned Nat. He doesn’t do 
it any more.” 

Do what? ” asked the new student. 

“ Why, at one time he almost supported a 
cracker foundry,” explained Nat — never 
seemed to be separated from a large bag of 
them.” 

A continuous performance,” supplemented 
Hackett. 

And of course such an awful example had 
to be made an example of,” chuckled Benny 
Wilkins. Anywhere within a five-mile zone 
his name is ‘ Crackers.’ When he gets be- 
yond, some people call him Dan and others 
Brown. He’s been done up brown, too ; 
haven’t you. Brown ? ” 

** Some greenies may think so.” 

Well, it’s a good thing talk like that 
doesn’t mean a black eye for some one. 
What were you saying, Nat ? ” 

** I’m trying to put Owen straight on who 


34 


The Rambler Club’s 

we are and what we are,” answered Nat. 

You see, John Hackett, Kirk Talbot and 
myself left school at the end of last term, and 
have already begun our struggle in life.” 

So far, it’s been something fierce, too,” 
confided Hackett. I’m working for my 
father, and the howl he raises when I want 
a day or two off would almost make you run 
out of the store.” 

John’s the meanest apology for a dry-goods 
clerk that ever skimped on a yard of cloth,” 
announced Benny Wilkins. 

Nat turned toward Lawrence. Ted Pol- 
lock, an old chum of ours, is still making the 
professors at the school throw up their hands 
in despair. So are most of the other chaps 
around here.” 

I’ve seen Benny Wilkins at the school,” 
said Owen. 

We must whisper that he’s seen too often 
everywhere. He totes around a note-book — 
must fill one every week. What did you put 
down to-day, Benny ? ” 

Wilkins slowly drew from his pocket the 
article in question, and, opening it, read : 

Four thirty-five p. m. Sized up the can- 


Ball Nine 


35 


didates for the ball team. No good. Four 
forty p. M. Tom Clifton received notification 
to that effect. Four forty-one p. m. Tom 
Clifton said so much in about three minutes 
that I left it all out. Four fifty p. m. Looked 
at a book containing logarithms, but decided 
that Terry Guffin’s was better.’^ 

“ There is hope for you yet, Benny,’^ re- 
marked Crackers, solemnly. 

Owen Lawrence paid but little attention to 
the boys outside of his immediate circle, for 
he quickly noticed that they were apparently 
but a chorus playing a very secondary part to 
the principal stars of the Retreat.'' 

Say, fellows, who was that elderly gentle- 
man who came over to the ball grounds this 
afternoon ? " he inquired, presently. 

Several started to answer at once. But Nat 
Wingate silenced them. 

Mr. Rupert Barry," he explained. They 
say he's the oldest graduate of the high school. 
Has a great lot of the stuff everybody's scrap- 
ping for, too — money." 

Awful queer old chap," confided Ted 
Pollock. 

What's all the talk about a new ball field 


The Rambler Club’s 


36 

that Tom Clifton is getting off every day ? ” 
asked Owen. 

I was just about to tell you/^ answered 
Nat. Hello, Terry — he raised his voice 
— “ are you baking that pie ? 

The white cap and smiling countenance of 
Mr. Guffin immediately appeared in the door- 
way. 

“ Just a moment, Nat,^^ he answered, rubbing 
his hands together. 

‘‘ Hurry it up, Terry. Well, Lawrence, Mr. 
Barry owns a large field about three-quarters 
of a mile from the school. And, last year, he 
sprang a sensation on the crowd which some 
of ^em haven’t gotten over yet.” 

“ If I’d only known about it at the time I’d 
have stayed at the school and won it for the 
boys,” remarked John Hackett. 

You ? ” scoffed Benny Wilkins. 

‘‘ Before night comes I guess I’ll know the 
particulars,” laughed Owen. 

Everybody keep quiet until spoken to,” 
commanded Nat. Mr. Barry ambled over 
to the school one day and saw Professor Hop- 
kins.” 

“ I’ll tell him what happened,” interrupted 


Ball Nine 


37 

Ted Pollock. You weren't there, Nat. I 

can see the principal now " 

“ You can't," declared Benny Wilkins — 
unless you've eaten too much pie." 

‘‘ He came into the assembly room with Mr. 
Barry. ‘ Boys,' he said, in solemn tones, ^ you 
all know our esteemed fellow townsman. He 
tells me that on several occasions some of you 
have attempted to play ball on his lot.' " 
Thought you were going to catch it, I 
suppose ? " grinned Owen. 

Certainly did. But the principal switched 
off on a line of talk that filled the fellows with 
so much astonishment that it's a wonder they 
could do any studying for the rest of the week." 

I know a few that didn't," came from 
Benny Wilkins. 

Nat silenced him with a gesture, and went 
on to explain that the eccentric old gentleman 
who occupied the house on the hill did not go 
to the school to register a “ kick," but had 
actually offered to present them the field and 
a grand stand in case they' should have a win- 
ning ball team the following year. ^ 

When Bob Somers, Dave Brandon and 
Tom Clifton returned from a trip to the 


The Rambler Club’s 


38 

East they had started things moving with a 
vengeance. Assisted by Dick Travers and 
Sam Randall, two other members of the 
Rambler Club, they got the student body to 
vote on the proposition to form a regular 
athletic association. The boys, much im- 
pressed by the various exploits of the Rambler 
Club, responded with an enthusiasm that not 
only brought the project to a successful issue 
but placed in office all those who were cham- 
pions of Bob Somers and his crowd. Sam 
Randall became president, Harry Spearman, 
vice president, Dick Travers, secretary, and 
Jack Carr, treasurer. And all the representa- 
tives from the various classes were hot root- 
ers for the Ramblers. 

Of course many candidates for the ball team 
appeared, the most prominent being the big 
guard of the football eleven, Earl Roy croft. 
Certain very strong rumors floating about, 
however, seemed to suggest that while Earl 
wouldnT be given a chance, Charlie Blake, a 
lad who had made a failure on the school 
team when Nat Wingate captained it, was al- 
most certain of being assigned a position by 
the coach, Roger Steele. 


Ball Nine 


39 

With so much at stake, some of the boys 
began to feel that the Ramblers were having 
altogether too much say in the matter. Tom 
Clifton’s calm assumption that he would be 
a member of the nine was particularly annoy- 
ing to some of his schoolmates. 

Crackers insisted that a storm was brew- 
ing. In fact, his agitation had already re- 
sulted in the formation of an opposition, 
whose murmuring discontent, if things didn’t 
go right, seemed liable to break out later into 
a fierce roar of disapproval. 

The great prize for which the school was 
about to strive had the effect of putting this 
small minority into a belligerent state of 
mind even before the make-up of the team 
was actually known. 

When his various informers at length came 
to a stop, Owen Lawrence drawled : 

A very interesting state of affairs. I don’t 
like to say anything against the crowd, fel- 
lows, but, honestly, it seems to me that Tom 
Clifton is about the limit.” 

“ Oh, you knocker ! ” snickered Benny 
Wilkins. 

‘‘A conceited specimen, if there ever was 


40 


The Rambler Club’s 


one/^ asserted Crackers/^ nodding emphat- 
ically. “ Have you heard the latest? ” 

‘‘ Wait till I get out my note-book/^ said 
Benny. Let’s see — five ten p. m. A revela- 
tion by ^ Crackers ’ Brown ” 

“ He’s talking about the dieting racket for 
athletes. By Jove, he had a crowd lined up 
in the gym this morning, talking bigger’n 
any M. D. you ever listened to — fact.” 

A chorus of groans greeted this announce- 
ment. 

“ Pies and doughnuts barred out, I s’pose?” 
exclaimed Ted Pollock. 

I believe if he even saw one in a window 
he’d cross over to the other side of the street.” 

“Ah I That’s right, Terry.” Nat Wingate 
was speaking. “ Crickets — here come the 
doughnuts I ” 

Mr. Guffin had placed before the captain of 
the Stars and Owen Lawrence as fine speci- 
mens of pies as the “ Retreat ” had ever 
turned out. An assistant deposited a big plate- 
ful of doughnuts in the center of the table. 

“ We won’t be able to eat much supper after 
this,” ventured Owen. 

“ You only say that because you’re not used 


Ball Nine 


41 

to Guffin's,” chuckled Nat. These are regu- 
lar appetizers. What was I saying ? 

‘‘ Nothing,” said Benny. How did you 
happen to think of it? ” 

“ What kind of work are you doing, Nat?” 
asked Owen. 

I’m secretary to my uncle, Mr. Parsons 
Wingate,” answered Nat. “ I can take dicta- 
tion in shorthand and bang on the typewriter 
with all ten fingers.” 

‘‘And find time to play ball besides?” 

“ You bet I I get practice enough to keep 
on edge. The Stars can trim a lot of would-be 
big leaguers.” 

“ You’re going to play the school team, 
aren’t you ? ” 

“ Yes I And we expect to give ’em an 
awful drubbing, too.” 

“ Get out your note-book, Wilkins. I’m 
going to ask a question,” said Brown, banging 
the table sharply. 

“ All right,” assented Benny. “ Five fifteen 
p. M. ‘ Crackers ’ asks a question.” 

“ It is this,” said Brown, staring solemnly 
over the rim of his glasses : “ he who dares to 
venture within this ‘ Retreat ’ must be more 


CHAPTER IV 


THE LIST OF PLAYERS 

Since their return in the preceding fall 
Bob Somers and his crowd had certainly 
stirred things up at the Kingswood High. 
Of course, for many years, the school had 
been represented in local sporting events by 
its football and baseball teams. But there 
was no athletic association, little discipline, 
and a general policy of letting things drift 
along under no particular control. 

Now all this was changed. Immediately 
after the board of directors was chosen, and 
they, in turn, had elected officers, the business 
of securing a competent coach was attended 
to. Roger Steele, a graduate of the school, 
who had afterward played on a university 
baseball team and finally taken up the practice 
of law in Kingswood, readily assented to as- 
sume this task. 

Roger, a great friend of Bob Somers, entered 
enthusiastically into the scheme. There was 
plenty of good material to draw upon, a fact 
44 


Ball Nine 


45 

attested to by the number of victories won 
before Nat Wingate left school. 

As early as the beginning of February the 
coach sent out a call for candidates. Fresh- 
men, sophomores, juniors and seniors re- 
sponded in such numbers as to make it 
apparent that the boys were in hearty accord 
with the new spirit of things. 

Even while winter storms were howling 
practice was begun in the gymnasium. A 
net cage to protect the walls and windows 
from damage was arranged. Often while the 
snowflakes pattered against the panes aspiring 
candidates labored zealously to perfect them- 
selves in the national sport. 

Steele began to drill ^^Jack Frost” and 
Willie Singleton who soon gave promise of 
becoming real pitchers. Charlie Blake, wish- 
ing to retrieve his reputation, worked dil- 
igently. So did stout Dave Brandon. The 
football team of which he and Bob Somers had 
been members had received its bumps at the 
hands of Rockville Academy only a few months 
before, and Dave did not wish to leave school 
with memories of defeat lingering in his mind. 

Perhaps, after all, the biggest figure in these 


46 The Rambler Club’s 

events was Tom Clifton. He had had printed 
a set of by-laws which were to govern the acts 
of the athletic association. Tom was mighty 
proud of this achievement, for even Coach 
Steele expressed the opinion that they were 
very good. There was no more strenuous 
candidate for a position on the team than the 
tall senior, who was usually the first in the 
gym and the last to leave. 

The greatest danger which the coach had to 
contend with was the tendency of the boys to 
overdo things. As the time for a definite 
selection of players drew near interest in- 
creased. The adherents of rival candidates 
began to be heard. The Somersites, however, 
seemed to be in the great majority, several of 
the Ramblers being almost certain of winning 
places on the team. 

The Kingswood High School was sur- 
rounded by spacious grounds in which, only 
a few moments’ walk from the main building, 
stood the gymnasium. 

Early on the afternoon following the intro- 
duction of Owen Lawrence into the select 
company of the “ Pie-eaters,” a great crSwd 
of students directed their steps toward it. A 


Ball Nine 


47 


cold, drizzly rain fell steadily ; a brisk wind 
shook and rattled the branches of the stately 
elm on the campus. But the unpleasant 
weather could not kill the ardor and enthusi- 
asm of the boys. 

Coats were doffed, and once again purple 
and white sweaters made an aggressive note 
of color amid the surroundings. 

Among the throng who came to look on 
were “ Crackers Brown, Owen Lawrence, 
Ted Pollock and Benny Wilkins. 

Start ’er going, fellows I 

The businesslike voice of Coach Steele rang 
through the room. 

“ All right, Roger, responded Bob Somers. 

Who’s got my glove — you, Dave ? Good I 
Shoot that ball over here, Tom. Thanks I 
Here go, ‘ Jack Frost.^ 

With a '' Hello, ' Pie-eater ’ I addressed 
to Ted Pollock, the pitcher got to work, Phil 
Brentall, catcher, having taken his position 
behind the big chalk mark on the gymnasium 
mat. 

Take it easy, boys,^^ warned Coach Steele. 
“ Danger of straining your arms if you donT. 
Cut out those fancy capers, Clifton.’* 


48 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Shoot it over, Dave,” Bob Somers was 
saying. “ Put plenty of ginger behind it, 
too. Better get over this way a little further, 
so we won^t be in danger of putting ‘ Jack 
Frost ^ out of business.” 

The snappy work which followed brought 
a smile of approval to the coach’s face. Sev- 
eral other candidates for pitchers followed 
Frost. Then came batting practice. Some 
of the boys were able to solve '' Jack Frost’s ” 
delivery. Frequently the crack of the bats 
reverberated sharply through the building, 
and the wire netting stopped some pretty 
hard drives. 

Steele showed his men many fine points in 
the art of sliding to bases, and Tom Clifton 
distinguished himself on the big mats spread 
about for this purpose. 

Occasionally the candidates cut loose,” 
and by the time practice for the afternoon 
was over most of them were warm and happy. 

Earl Roycroft had made a good showing. 
Everybody who liked the big football guard 
— and that meant almost every one in the 
room — was jubilant. 

He’s all to the good as a baseball tosser*” 


Ball Nine 


49 


declared Ted Pollock. We’ll surely see him 
in a brand new uniform playing at first or 
short.” 

The crowd began filing out of the building. 

** Hello ! ” cried “ Crackers ” Brown, sud- 
denly. “ That looks interesting.” 

Goodness I — ‘ Crackers ’ discovers some- 
thing interesting ! ” murmured Benny Wil- 
kins. ** It’s certainly not himself.” 

“ What do you see, Brown ? ” asked Owen 
Lawrence. 

You fellows couldn’t spy through a hole 
in a fence,” growled “ Crackers.” He lowered 
his voice. Cast your optics over in the 
direction of Steele and Somers. Now do you 
catch on ? ” 

Gee Willikins I They seem to be looking 
over a long list of some kind,” cried Ted Pol- 
lock. ‘‘ I wonder what it means.” 

“ If your brain cells don’t operate actively 
enough I suppose I’ll have to tell you,” said 
Crackers,” in his usual solemn tone. It 
must be a — a — what’s the word ? Oh, yes — 
tentative — a tentative list of eligible players.” 

I believe that wearing spectacles must 
make a fellow smart,” grinned Benny. 


5 ° 


The Rambler Club’s 


What are you looking so glum about, 
Lawrence ? 

<< Why, I wanted to try for the team my- 
self,'^ exclaimed Lawrence. By Jingo, they 
ought to give me a chance. Come on, fellows. 
I^m going to find out right away where I 
stand.’^ 

Don^t let ’em bluff you,” counseled 
Benny. ‘‘ Always remember that the * Pie- 
eaters’ll ’ back you up.” 

There was no air of indecision about the 
new student. The lines of his clean-cut face 
seemed to tighten. 

I say, Mr. Steele,” he called, may I have 
a word with you ? ” 

As many as you please,” answered the 
coach, smilingly. He handed the list which 
had excited Crackers’ ” curiosity to Bob 
Somers and advanced to the edge of the cage. 
‘‘ What can I do for you, Lawrence ? ” 

Am I too late to try for the team, Mr. 
Steele?” 

Owen spoke in an aggressive manner, as 
though he anticipated an affirmative answer 
and was ready to argue the point. But : 

Certainly you may,” coming from the 


Ball Nine 


5 » 

coach made the combative light fade from his 
eyes. 

“ Oh — oh I Thank you.^^ 

“ You have played a good deal, I sup- 
pose ? 

Yes, sir.’^ 

Very well. You may start in to-morrow. 

“ Too bad ! A revolution nipped in the 
bud,’^ muttered Benny Wilkins. “ Lawrence’s 
expression was something fierce. But it had 
the ‘ fade-away ’ drop, all right. Back to the 
pie parlor for me.” 

“ I’d like to see that list,’^ remarked 
“ Crackers,” wistfully. 

‘‘ Hi, hi, there, Tom Clifton,” shouted Benny 
Wilkins, trot over this way.” 

Well ? ” inquired Tom, an instant later. 

Is that — er — er — what was the big word 
you used just now, ^ Crackers ^ ? ” 

“Tentative, you ignoramus.” 

“ Thanks I A tentative list of players, 
Tom ? ” 

Tom looked very wise. 

“ Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t,” he an- 
swered, slowly. “Just think it over while 
you’re eating doughnuts. Going to practice 


52 The Rambler Club’s 

to-morrow, Lawrence? Good I The more the 
merrier ! 

“ The more the sorrier, you mean — when 
the list is pasted up,” interposed Benny. 

“ I shouldnT be surprised if somebody got 
pasted after the pasting,” said Crackers.” 

Don’t worry,” laughed Tom, turning 
away. 

During the next few days, whenever the 
weather was suitable, the boys practiced out- 
of-doors. Owen Lawrence worked as hard as 
any of the others. There was no doubt about 
his being a good player — even Tom Clifton 
admitted this fact to Harry Spearman. 

^‘Joining that * Pie-eating’ crowd won’t do 
him a bit of good, though,” he added. 

“ Strikes me he’d be a rather hard chap to 
manage,” confided Harry. Awful set in his 
opinions, isn’t he ? ” 

‘^Owen makes me tired,” confessed Tom. 
‘‘ He actually tried to jump on Dave this 
morning. But Dave only grinned — that’s 
all. Couldn’t get him going.” 

How did it happen ? ” 

He’s seen that Dave is chummy with the 
coach — asked him to put in a good word in 


Ball Nine 


53 


his behalf. * Can^t/ said Dave. ^ We're leav- 
ing it all to Steele.' Seemed to make Owen 
hot." 

If he doesn't get on the team he'll be hot- 
ter yet," chuckled Spearman. You seem to 
be getting some of those base-stealing stunts 
down fine, Tom." 

“ Steele's put me onto a lot of tricks. 'Tisn't 
all in the sprinting, he says. Even a slow 
man who knows how has a chance. He's got 
the list of players about made up now. Next 
Monday he'll submit it to the athletic asso- 
ciation." 

“ We've been talking things over with Roger 
for a long time," remarked Harry. “ From 
what I've seen, I'd say he's struck the list 
about right. But there'll be a lot of kicks 
coming, son." 

“ Sure," admitted Tom. That officious 
^ Crackers ' Brown, even before the names are 
put up, is buttonholing everybody he thinks 
ripe for a row. * Steele will be making the 
greatest mistake of his life if he doesn't have 
Roycroft and Lawrence on that team,' he 
says. The nerve of him I " 

“ One good thing : Roger knows his business 


54 


The Rambler Club’s 


too well to be influenced. It^s up to the coach 
to run the team, and the school hasn’t a word 
to say.’' 

‘‘ Of course not I Gee I I must get over 
to practice now,” exclaimed Tom, suddenly. 

Before the week was over Mr. Barry and 
his dog again appeared on the scene. He was 
as garrulous as usual whenever spoken to, but 
otherwise made no comments. 

To the anxious candidates Monday seemed 
very far off ; and when it rolled around few of 
the students were able to keep their minds on 
the work in hand. Some “ fell down ” hard 
in the class room. All sorts of rumors were 
afloat. Earl Roycroft looked hopeful ; Crack- 
ers ” Brown decidedly ominous ; Owen Law- 
rence wore an air of belligerency. 

At the first opportunity a crowd began 
trooping over to the gymnasium. 

Yes, the list was there, posted in a conspicu- 
ous place. 

But, due to the noise, pushing and jostling, 
it was some time before those on the outside 
of the excited mass could gather any clear 
idea of what had happened. 

‘‘ Crackers ” Brown and Owen Lawrence 


Ball Nine 


55 


were not on the outside of the mass. The 
former had his face shoved so close to the list 
that it was with difficulty his neighbors could 
get a glimpse. 

“ Gee whiz, ‘ Crackers,^ I’m tired of looking 
at the architecture of your head,” complained 
Benny Wilkins. “ How many of the seven 
candidates for pitchers got their jobs ? ” 

Numerous exclamations of surprise and 
disappointment were soon being heard. The 
ominous expression on “ Crackers’ ” face in- 
creased. Lawrence was looking positively 
savage. 

“ Say, fellows, this is about the limit. What 
do you think I ” Brown turned to face a star- 
ing, noisy crowd. “ Neither Roycroft nor 
Lawrence is on the team I ” 


CHAPTER V 


THE GRUMBLERS 

‘‘Well, I^m mighty glad iPs all settled, 
Steele,'’ said Bob Somers. “ I'm afraid, 
though " — he smiled rather grimly — “ that 
some of the chaps are pretty badly disap- 
pointed." 

Coach Steele's gray eyes ran over the crowd 
congregated before the bulletin-board. 

“ It's the same old story. Bob. A coach's 
life is not always the biggest snap in the 
world." 

“ I wonder how Roycroft will take it," 
ventured Charlie Blake. 

“ Like a good sport. I'm sure," answered 
Steele. 

“ Of course he will," said Tom, who was 
bubbling over with glee. “ Honest, Bob, I 
can hardly wait for the umpire to call ‘ Play 
ball ! ' Aren't we going to pulverize Nat 
Wingate’s crowd ? I’ll bet we whitewash 'em. 

56 


Ball Nine 


SI 

Doesn^t it make you tired to hear some of 
those fellows boast ? 

Ha, ha I I shall have to make a note of 
Mr. Clifton^s comment on boasting.^* Benny 
Wilkins, wearing his usual grin, approached. 

Congrats, Brandon and the whole bunch. 
Thought your weight and Somers' delicate 
nerve would carry you through. Lucky 
dogs I " 

‘‘ I can see an awful lot of hard work before 
us," drawled Dave Brandon. 

But just think what jolly good fun it'll 
be getting the school a new athletic field," ex- 
claimed Tom. “ Hope some of the teams we 
play are strong enough to give us a pretty 
good tussle." 

Cut it out, fellows I I tell you I don't 
want you to say a word. I'm not putting up 
any kick." 

Earl Roycroft's big form loomed up from 
among a group of gesticulating, excited ad- 
mirers. Voices echoed sharply through the 
big gymnasium. 

How about Lawrence? How about Law- 
rence? " chorused a small coterie surrounding 
the new student and Crackers " Brown. 


The Rambler Club’s 


58 

“ Rah, rah, rah for Bob Somers ! ” answered 
a challenging roar from lusty throats. “ Three 
cheers for Coach Steele I 

The room seemed to shake with applause. 
The Somersites were clearly in the majority. 
A stream began pouring over to offer their 
well wishes to the members of the first regu- 
larly organized team of the Kingswood High. 

Bantering remarks, cat-calls, came from the 
minority. Never in its history had the gym 
witnessed such a scene of noise, confusion and 
bustle. From out of the babel of sound came 
the repeated cry of : 

“ Roycroft — Roycroft ! 

The big guard, red-faced and flustered, found 
himself being pushed toward Coach Steele. 
His emphatic protests fell on unheeding 
ears. 

Quit it, fellows,’^ he commanded, almost 
angrily. If the coach didnT want me on 
the team that settles it.^^ 

DonT roll off any such chicken-hearted 
stuff as that,^^ growled Owen Lawrence. 
<< We’ve been handed a raw deal, and it’s 
time to us we said something.” 

‘‘This looks like the beginning of a real 



( c 




IT S FOR THE GOOD OF THE SCHOOL 



1 



Ball Nine 


59 

revolution,” grinned Benny Wilkins, who had 
walked over. 

We might as well have a little talk 
with Mr. Steele right now,” suggested 
Crackers.” 

That's right ; strike while the Steele is 
cool,” piped Benny. 

Let go, fellows I ” cried Earl. Stop 
shoving, Luke Phelps. If I'm satisfied, you 
haven't any right to fuss about it.” 

Oh, yes, we have. It's for the good of the 
school,” declared “ Crackers ” emphatically. 

I told you all along how things would turn 
out. A protest in time may save nine awful 
explosions.” 

Well, I'm in your hands,” said the guard, 
with a rather weak smile. 

I say, Mr. Steele I ” — Owen Lawrence 
was speaking — ** may I speak to you a mo- 
ment?” 

Certainly, Lawrence. Go ahead.” 

I don't want to appear in the light of a 
sorehead, Mr. Steele ; but it seems to me — and 
a good many here will back up my opinion — 
that it's a mistake to leave Roy croft off the 
team.” 


6o 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ What has Earl to say about this ? ” asked 
the coach, quietly. 

I told these chaps I was ready to abide by 
your decision,” answered Roycroft. I’m not 
kicking.” 

That’s all very well,” said “ Crackers,” 
“ but we happen to know the kind of a game 
he can play ; and the prize the school is going 
after ” 

“ I have considered all that. Brown.” 

The coach, scarcely more than a schoolboy 
in appearance, spoke so unassumingly that 

Crackers ” was emboldened to continue. 

He began talking earnestly and emphat- 
ically, pointing out the various reasons why 
both Roycroft and Lawrence should be added 
to the squad. 

The coach, however, shook his head. 

I don’t think I can make any change. 
Brown,” he announced, firmly. There are 
so many promising players in this school that 
it means no reflection whatever on those who 
were left off.” 

Just the way I take it,” said Roycroft. 

“ Then you’re a big dunderhead ! ” ex- 
claimed Owen Lawrence. Three of the 


Ball Nine 


6i 


Ramblers on that team ; two others officers of 
the athletic association I How can you swal- 
low a proposition like that? ” 

Oh, go away and eat some pie I scoffed 
Tom Clifton. Steady your nerves with a 
doughnut. Better wait and see us play be- 
fore you get so hot about it.” 

I^m afraid some one will be roasted if this 
thing keeps up,” murmured Benny. 

We’re going to do our level best for the 
school, fellows,” spoke up Bob Somers, ear- 
nestly. A team is twice as strong when 
there’s no opposition or unpleasant feeling. 
All we ask is : give us a fair show. Then, if 
things don’t break right, it will be time 
enough to talk.” 

‘‘ Let that idea soak in, Owen Lawrence,” 
spoke up *^Jack Frost,” who had won his 
place on the pitching staff. 

‘‘ All right. We’ll give you all the chance 
you want.” Owen, apparently regretting his 
hasty outbreak, even smiled as he added : 

Wherever I study I’m always red-hot for the 
school.” 

Lawrence’s thought arrangement unloosens 
his tongue before he thinks,” came from Benny. 


62 The Rambler Club’s 

I made a note of that the first day he was 
here.’^ 

'' Oh ho,’^ yawned Dave Brandon. Tve 
got a lot of work to do on the next number of 
the ‘ Reflector.^ Guess I’ll skip.” 

“ Crackers,” the most solemn-looking boy 
in school, and yet, some suspected, the most 
anxious to help along any row, realized that 
it would be impolitic to allow the opposition 
to show its hand too freely. He saw that it 
could only react upon themselves, and, per- 
haps, throw into the other camp those unde- 
cided students who were not quite sure which 
side to favor. 

“ The ‘ Pie-eaters ’ will act as nice as pie,” 
he confided to Owen Lawrence, late that after- 
noon at Terry Guffin’s. 

I heard Steele speak about getting up a 
second nine to play the regulars,” said Benny 
Wilkins. He told the fellows it was the 
best kind of practice. Now’s your chance, 
Lawrence.” 

“ Not for mine, son,” answered Owen, em- 
phatically. Steele and Somers threw me 
down. Now they can’t pick up yours truly 
just to make a convenience of him.” 


} 


I 



Ball Nine 


63 

‘‘ I^m not sore about it,” added Earl Roy- 
croft, but, after being considered a kind of 
star on the football eleven, I don^t feel like 
taking a back seat.” 

I should say not,” agreed Brown. 

This seemed to be the general feeling among 
those who failed to get a position on the team. 
Many thought Crackers ” had a great deal 
to do with this state of mind. 

At any rate, the various teams which soon 
sprang into being did not include any big 
names ” among their players. The regulars, 
for the most part, had an easy time disposing 
of them, only occasionally being obliged to 
extend themselves in order to win. 

Wait till they play a real, live club,” 
laughed Owen Lawrence. “ Then I guess the 
score-card will tell another story.” 

The interest aroused in the coming contest 
with the Kingswood Stars increased as the 
day approached. 

An awful lot depends upon the first 
game,” said Bob Somers to Coach Steele, as 
the crowd left the gymnasium for practice on 
the following day. “ Tony Tippen is cer- 
tainly a dandy pitcher, and for an all-around 


The Rambler Club’s 


64 

player Nat Wingate is one of the best for his 
age I’ve ever seen.” 

‘‘ There is plenty of go and courage to that 
lad,” remarked Steele, '' though he needs dis- 
cipline.” 

Oh, they’re not such a bunch of wonders,” 
laughed Tom — “ even if they did beat the 
Goose Hillers. I guess we can wade right 
through ’em without half trying.” 

“ Overconfidence has lost many a game,” 
admonished the coach. 

Well, I reckon it won’t lose any for us.” 

Boys, I think you have all the signals 
down pretty fine. Now be careful not to cut 
loose too much. Keep your best in reserve, 
and when Saturday comes don’t let a lot of 
howling rooters get your nerve.” 

Not much,” sniffed Tom. 

Well, here we are on the field. Let’s get 
busy. Hello, Joe I Glad to see you. Guess 
you’ll be on hand to see the game, eh ? ” 

An expansive smile rested on Joe Rodgers’ 
freckled face. He looked very different from 
the lad whom Dave Brandon had found as 
an employee of Spudger’s Great Combined 
Peerless Circus and Menagerie. 


Ball Nine 


65 

Won^t I though, Mr. Steele ? he answered. 
“ How are you, Dave I Howdy, Bob I Maybe 
I wouldn’t like to be on the team.’^ 

“ You’ll get there some day,” chuckled 
Dave. Ready, ‘ Jack Frost ’ ? I want to 
get my batting eye in shape.” 

Among the great crowd of boys who surged 
on the field not a word of opposition was 
heard. The fast and snappy play brought 
forth ripples of applause. Bounders, grass- 
cutters, line drives and high fiies were fielded 
or caught with admirable precision. There 
were few false movements made in whipping 
the ball from one to another. 

It was an inspiring sight to the Somers 
partisans. They cheered and yelled them- 
selves hoarse. Joe Rodgers was in ecstasy. 

‘‘ They can’t be beaten 1 ” he cried. 

“ Three forty-five p. m. Decision reached 
that the Ramblers can’t be beaten,” chuckled 
Benny Wilkins, who happened to be near. 

Too bad we can’t get some major leaguers 
out here and show ’em just where they stand.” 

Saturday will be a great day for the school 
team,” predicted Harry Spearman. Every- 
body is brimming over with confidence.” 


66 


The Rambler Club’s 

I never bank too much on parlor prac- 
tice/’ put in Ted Pollock. Hush I Don’t 
say a word. Here comes Tom Clifton. 
Strikes me he’s up in the air in more’n one 
way,” he added, in a lower tone. Gee, 
hasn’t he changed ! ’Member when he was a 
little timid sort of a kid, Wilkins? ” 

“ It hasn’t been lately,” growled Benny. 
** Of all the hot-air artists that ever strutted 
around a ball field he carries off the bakery, 
pie counter and all. If they get trounced on 
Saturday I won’t shed any tears for Tommy.” 

‘‘ What’s this — a conspiracy ? ” chuckled 
Tom. Cut out the whispering. Did you 
see Bob stop Hazel’s grounder ? Peach — 
wasn’t it? Scooped the ball on a fast run.” 

“ Too bad Mr. Barry didn’t witness that 
performance,” said Benny. He might have 
taken down the first of those no-trespassing 
signs. Wasn’t it queer of the old chap to 
make such an offer, anyway ? ” 

Most staggers me even now,” admitted 
Ted Pollock. ** Say, Tom, tried on your uni- 
form yet?” 

“ Certainly have. Guess it won’t look so 
spick and span after I steal a few bases.” 


Ball Nine 


67 

“ Better be careful how you try it on Nat's 
crowd," warned Ted. His back-stop, you 
know, has a big rep' for nippin' those sly 
dodges." 

Oh, yes. But he'll have to eat some 
more pie before he can do the nipping act on 
me. Look out — let me get it I " 

Tom made a frantic rush in and out among 
the crowd in an effort to reach a high foul 
which had slipped from Dave Brandon's bat. 
Two juniors were bowled over in the attempt ; 
but Tom caught the ball, and, flushed with 
triumph, snapped it over to Jack Frost." 

** Nearly knocks a fellow's head off, an' 
never even says excuse me," muttered one 
disconsolate junior, rubbing his forehead. I 
like his nerve." 

So don't I," growled the other. “ The 
silly chump rushed right between us before 
we had a chance to move. Gee I Look at 
him now, chasing that grounder. Guess he 
thinks he's the whole show. Listen! What's 
that?" 

A loud, discordant yell had blared through 
a megaphone. 

Turning in the direction from whence the 


68 


The Rambler Club’s 


sound had come the two saw a small proces- 
sion of boys headed by Nat Wingate and tall 
John Hackett approaching. The majority 
had megaphones, and the din which they 
produced indicated that all knew how to use 
them to the best advantage. 

On they came, singing a lusty chorus. 

‘‘ We are ready for the fray I shouted Nat, 
at the end of a stanza. 

Rah, rah, rah ! yelled Hackett. 

Bing, bang, boom I screeched Kirk Tal- 
bot. ‘‘ WeTe the best bunch in the amateur 
ranks.’’ 

‘‘And we’re going to show just how rank 
you are ! ” howled Tom. 

An approving roar came from the purple 
and white. 

“ That’s like Nat Wingate — always butting 
in with a megaphone,” exclaimed one of the 
juniors. “ But say, Freddy Sparker, he’s just 
doing it ’cause he thinks he can rattle Somers’ 
crowd ; an’, take it from me, some of ’em he 
can.” 

“ Who ? ” asked Sparker. 

“ Charlie Blake, for one ; Clifton for an- 
other.” 


Ball Nine 


69 

“ Add Alfred Boggs for a third. Oh, yes ; 
Nat and Hackett’ll know how to get some of 
^em going/^ 

I shouldn’t mind being knocked down 
again if it were only time for that game to be 
played,” sighed the first junior. ‘‘Wouldn’t 
surprise me a bit if Nat gave our crowd an 
awful lacing.” 


CHAPTER VI 


THE FIRST GAME 

I DECLARE, Bob Somers, I feel a bit nerv- 
ous about this thing/’ 

Charlie Blake, the most studious boy in 
the Kingswood High, often referred to as the 
“ grind,” paced a corner of the gymnasium 
floor. 

“ Oh, forget it I ” laughed Bob. Pull 
yourself together, Charlie.” 

‘‘ Oh, I think I can play the game all right 
— even if I didn’t make good while Nat was 
captain. But there’s going to be an awful 
big crowd on that fleld. Bob ; the whole town 
seems to be talking about it. And Mr. Barry 
will have his eagle eye on every move we 
make.” 

So much the better.” 

Maybe you’re right,” assented Charlie. 

Wish I had Dave Brandon’s nerve. Bet he 
could take a nap right before the game.” 

There was an undercurrent of excitement 
70 


Ball Nine 


7 » 


in the gymnasium. Each of the players, in 
a new and spotless uniform, resplendent 
purple shirt and striped stockings, found 
himself the center of a little group of eager 
enthusiasts. 

“ For the good of the school, boys, do your 
best ! bawled Crackers Brown. Nat 
Wingate is a dandy fellow ; but I hope you’ll 
beat his crowd so badly they’ll never wind 
off any of their megaphone stunts here again.” 

Oh, what an awful bluff, ‘ Crackers ’ I 
chirped Benny Wilkins. You know you 
want him to win.” 

There’s a big mob on the field already, 
fellows.” This announcement, coming from 
Tom Clifton, added to the pleasurable excite- 
ment. 

Well, it’s most time to be getting over,” 
said Bob. ‘‘ Everybody ready ? ” 

A rousing chorus of assenting voices an- 
swered. 

Oh, I say — I say — who’s going to report 
this game for the ^ Reflector ’ ? ” cried Benny. 

Mr. Editor, may I ? ” 

Write it up and submit your stuff,” laughed 
Dave. If it’s good I’ll slip it in.” 


72 


The Rambler Club’s 


Bully I That’s a go. Now don’t try to 
back out, Dave Brandon. You heard him say 
it, fellows.” 

The team, headed by Coach Roger Steele, 
was already making for the door, followed by 
as an enthusiastic and hopeful a band of root- 
ers as ever backed up a school nine. 

Freshmen struggled for the honor of carry- 
ing bats, masks and other paraphernalia. 

It was an ideal day, cool and crisp, but not 
chilly enough to stiffen the players’ muscles. 

A big crowd greeted the boys on the scene 
of the impending battle. Almost every student 
of the school seemed to be there, while numbers 
of the townspeople mingled with the groups. 

‘‘ Somers, Somers I ” yelled the mob. The 
cry rose and fell in waves of sound, causing a 
flush to mantle the captain’s cheek. “ Rah, 
rah, rah ! Boom ! ” 

Purple and white pennants flashed brightly 
in the sunlight. It certainly looked like a 
great day for the Kingswood High. 

By the fence behind home plate the players 
gathered around Coach Steele. 

Don’t get rattled,” he cautioned. Re- 
member, quick thinking at a crucial point 


Ball Nine 


73 


has won many a game. Feel ^em out in the 
early innings, and don’t let a single chance for 
stealing a base slip by.” 

You bet we won’t,” laughed Tom. “ When 
that crowd finds out what we have to show in 
the running line they’ll open their eyes.” 

“ Get to work, boys,” ordered the coach. 

Hello, Lou Mercer I ” He extended his hand 
toward a good-looking boy, manager of the 
club. ‘‘ I hear Professor Hopkins is going to 
see the game.” 

That’s so,” said Mercer, gleefully ; ‘‘ and 
Mr. Rupert Barry’ll be with him. And say, 
what do you think? Professor Ivins actually 
said he’d come, too.” 

What ? ” cried Tom. 

“ Fact. Surprised me, I can tell you. 
Heard him say once he never could see any- 
thing in the game.” 

He’ll see something in this game.” Tom 
selected a bat from several which an exuberant 
freshman was lugging about. Get out a bit 
further, Dave I ” he yelled. I’m going to 
knock some cloud swipers.” 

Hey I Who’s seen the Stars practicin’ ? ” 
asked one boy of another. 


74 


The Rambler Club’s 

'' Not I. Struck me they did all of their 
practicing over at Guffin's/' 

That’s where you’re wrong, son. Leslie 
Glinn — he’s one of their crowd — unloosened 
his tongue long enough to say they went 
through their little turns in a field about two 
miles out the pike. Oh, Nat’s cute, all right ; 
knows every trick of the game.” 

“ So does Bob Somers,” growled the other. 

Say, if we win this game won’t the crowd 
give him a big hand to-night ! ” 

Well, ra-ther I ” 

Twenty minutes later a sound from a mega- 
phone in the distance brought forth a wild 
cheer from the supporters of the Stars. All 
eyes seemed to be turned in the direction of 
the valiant team which, as usual, was headed 
by Nat Wingate and John Hackett. 

Following the players came a great crowd, 
the members of which were singing in half a 
dozen different keys a song that Jack Frost ” 
declared Nat had written himself. 

“ Sounds like it,” chuckled Benny. Guess 
it’s a first offense, though.” 

The rooters of the visiting team did their 
best. But the fans who swore allegiance to 


Ball Nine 


75 

Bob Somers drowned their efforts in a turbu- 
lent roar. 

The Stars didnT present the neat appearance 
of the Kingswood team, their uniforms, no 
two of which were alike, bearing unmistakable 
evidence of hard usage. 

The eyes of many were centered upon Tony 
Tippen, the crack pitcher of whom so much 
had been heard. Tony was a farmer's son, 
tall, gaunt, and angular of frame. His face, 
burnt to almost a coppery hue, indicated 
that much of his time was spent out in 
the open. Tony had the reputation of being 
a cool, imperturbable chap whom nature 
seemed to have forgotten to supply with 
nerves. 

Have you fellows done practicing ? " sang 
out Nat. Good ! Our boys'll wade right 
in." 

We'll need only ten minutes," yelled John 
Hackett. 

“ That's right. Let's get the ball rolling in 
earnest," said Tony Tippen, in a deep bass 
voice. 

Quiet settled over the crowd. The boys 
were too much interested in getting a line on 


76 The Rambler Club’s 

the opponents of the “ High to make any 
noise. They presently had to confess that the 
visitors had a dash and vim about their practice 
which promised an exciting contest. 


CHAPTER VII 


FOUE TO NOTHING 

Play ball I '' 

These two words, uttered in a loud, authori- 
tative tone, sent a sort of electric thrill through 
the impatient audience, which was only wait- 
ing for the first opportunity to expend its 
superfluous energy in a hair-raising yell. 

The Stars having won the toss, Tony Tippen 
went to his place on the mound, while Dave 
Brandon, smiling in his usual good-natured 
fashion, walked briskly to the plate. 

He^ll have to show the best in the shop 
to faze old Dave,” chuckled Tom Clifton 
to Catcher Phil Brentall. ** ‘ Jack Frost ' 
couldnT do it, could you, Jack ? Ah I Tippen 
is going to let 'er fly. Watch him.” 

The boys were already watching with wide, 
staring eyes. They saw the pitcher winding 
up.” Then almost instantly the ball seemed to 
smack into the catcher's mit. 

Strike one I ” called the umpire. 

77 


The Rambler Club’s 


78 

“ Suffering doughnuts I ” gasped Tom. 
<< Why didn^t he swing on it? 

IVe heard it is hard to lam the ball when 
Tippen is on deck/^ said Jack Frost/^ 
‘‘ Cheer up, Tom. The game isn’t lost yet.” 

Once more the pitcher sent in the ball. 

Strike two I ” 

Great Scott I ” breathed Tom. Gee ! I 
hope Dave takes a chance on the next.” 

Dave Brandon had no intention of being 
caught napping a third time. He had been 
stunned into momentary inaction by Tippen’s 
terrific speed and the quickness with which 
he delivered the ball. Doggedly determined, 
he faced the pitcher, realizing that the eyes of 
hundreds were upon him, and that he was 
there for the good of the school. Out of the 
corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Pro- 
fessors Hopkins and Ivins and Mr. Rupert 
Barry. Warily, he watched the cool, grinning 
face of Tippen. 

But the inshoot which Dave half expected 
did not come. Instead Tony Tippen slipped 
over a tantalizing slow ball, and Dave’s vicious 
lunge came a fraction of a second too late. 

Three strikes and out!” bawled the 


Ball Nine 


79 

umpire, amid shouts of approval from the Star 
crowd. 

The rest of the inning passed quickly, not 
a player reaching first. 

The members of the school team looked 
glum but resolute as they sallied out into the 
field. They had not started off with the dash 
and brilliancy many expected. 

“ But never mind,” said First Baseman 
Tom Clifton, fiercely. “ WeVe eight more 
innings coming to us.” 

Batter up ! ” commanded the umpire. 

John Hackett, looking very important in- 
deed, strode to the plate. “Jack Frost” 
rubbed a little dust on the ball. He raised 
his arm in the air, brought it down again, and 
a snappy drop was speeding toward the 
batter. 

John Hackett made a mighty swing — and 
missed. 

“ Rah, rah, rah for ‘ Jack Frost ’ ! ” came 
from the field. 

Jack was a little nervous. He had not yet 
gained his usual control of the ball. The 
next two went wide of the plate. 

Hackett, however, landed on the fourth. 


8o 


The Rambler Club’s 


But the pitcher scooped up the bounder which 
resulted and retired the batter at first. 

Kirk Talbot was the next to face the 
pitcher. 

At the very first ball delivered he sent a 
hot line drive whipping straight toward 
Charlie Blake. Charlie, though still strug- 
gling against a feeling of nervousness, easily 
made the catch. 

Jeff Wilber, right fielder of the Stars, 
reached first on balls ; but Nat Wingate’s ef- 
fort to advance him was nipped by Dave Bran- 
don’s clever catch of a high fly in left field. 

“ Ha, ha ! ” chuckled Tom Clifton. It 
will take more’n Tony Tippen’s pitching to 
win this game. You can bet we’ll get on to 
his curves before long. Who’s up — you, 
Blake? Don’t let Nat rattle you. He’s 
beginning his holler already.” 

Charlie selected his favorite bat. He 
reflected that when Nat Wingate tried to 
rattle a fellow he generally made a pretty 
good job of it. He tried to deaden his ears to 
the sarcastic quips which the captain of the 
Stars was now hurling toward him. 

'' It’s easy, Tippen I ” bawled Nat. He 


Ball Nine 8i 

couldn't hit a stuffed pillow. You've got him 
going." 

“ I'll bet he'll be going to first the next 
minute," muttered Tom, hotly. '' My, I hope 
we do soak it to this crowd." 

Shoot 'em over — shoot 'em over I " howled 
John Hackett. 

And the imperturbable Tippen did shoot 
'em over with a maddening skill and persist- 
ency which made the high school rooters 
fairly gasp. 

It seemed but a moment before the players 
found themselves trooping out upon the field 
again with a dull and deadly feeling that 
Tony Tippen was more than living up to his 
reputation. The crowd, ready to voice its 
approval or disapproval, yelled earnestly at 
every opportunity. 

It was not until the ending of the fourth 
inning, however, that the Kingswood rooters 
had a chance to strain their lungs to the 
breaking point. Tony Tippen, one of the 
hardest hitters on the Stars, had reached first 
in safety. 

At the instant Jack Frost " got into action 
he was off on a wild break for second. 


82 


The Rambler Club’s 


A yell rose on the air as Big Bill Steever 
smashed the oncoming sphere, sending it 
directly toward Third Baseman Fred Benson. 
Benson’s practiced eye told him it would be 
impossible to catch the runner at second — 
Tippen’s long legs were taking him over the 
ground at too great a speed. 

His gloved hand pulled in the bounding 
ball. Instantly he whipped it over to Tom, 
at first, then sprang back to his place on the 
sack. 

“ Send it here, Tom ; send it here ! ” he 
yelled. 

Charlie Blake, shortstop, was keenly alive 
to the possibilities of the situation. Day after 
day. Coach Steele had drilled into his men the 
importance of backing up players. Even if 
it proves unnecessary nine times out of ten, 
on the next occasion it may prevent the scorer 
from chalking down a run,” he said. 

When Tom gets excited he’s apt to throw 
wild,” reflected Blake. 

Before Tony Tippen had touched second 
and was tearing on toward third Blake was 
oflP to back up the baseman. 

A hundred throats poured forth volleys of 


Ball Nine 


83 

encouragement to Tippen ; and above the 
shrieks and yells the voices of Nat Wingate 
and John Hackett could be heard. 

‘‘ Go it, Tippen ; go it I ” howled the former. 

“ Hi, hi, hi I Come all the way around I 
screeched Hackett. 

Kirk Talbot was dancing up and down in 
an excess of joy. 

Here’s where we bring in the first run I ” 
he yelled. ** Ha, ha I I thought sol ” 

The ball had beaten Bill Steever to first, 
while Benson had judged his throw so nicely 
that Tom Clifton was able to return it without 
moving an inch from his position. 

But the horse-hide had no sooner left Tom’s 
hand than he realized, with a sinking feeling, 
that it would sail over the third baseman’s 
head. 

The purple and white pennants were not 
waving now. The Kings wood boys looked 
on in gloomy silence. The shouts of their 
opponents soared higher as Benson leaped off 
the ground in a vain effort to stop the speed- 
ing ball. 

He saw Tony Tippen slipping past and 
making a break for home. 


84 The Rambler Club’s 

Gee whiz I ” he groaned. 

The swelling din from the field struck 
harshly on his ears. But with a frantic dash, 
Shortstop Blake got into the path of the ball, 
leaped for it and caught it and, although 
partly off his balance, sent it whirling toward 
home plate. 

Phil Brentall watched the runner and the 
ball racing toward him. The hot volley of 
sarcasm and the wild blasts sent up through 
megaphones in the Wingate camp could not 
shake his nerves. 

Slide for it, Tony ; slide for it I roared 
Nat. 

“ Slide for it ! echoed Hackett, desper- 
ately. 

For an instant the tumult was stilled. 

Tony Tippen obeyed instructions, literally 
hurling himself with outstretched arms 
toward the plate. From amidst a cloud of 
yellow dust his hand shot forward. Then, 
just as victory seemed certain, a hard thump 
jarred his shoulder. The ball had won the 
race. 

‘‘ Runner out ! called the umpire. 

The Star adherents left off shouting as the 


Ball Nine 


85 

high school lads began. Caps were thrown 
recklessly in the air ; purple and white pen- 
nants waved frantically ; and as Blake, flushed 
with pride, walked in from the field he heard 
his name rolling out on waves of sound. 

Not so badly done, sir,^^ remarked Mr. 
Rupert Barry, who sat on a bench between 
the president of the Kingswood High and 
solemn-looking Professor Ivins. 

Dear me,’^ said the latter. I can^t un- 
derstand why the boys get so dreadfully ex- 
cited.'^ 

It is one of the very annoying features of 
the sport,’’ returned Mr. Barry. They dis- 
tract everybody’s attention.” 

If they would only enter into their studies 
with the same enthusiasm we might have a 
race of intellectual giants,” said Professor 
Ivins, gravely. 

Young Blake is one of those rare com- 
binations who seem to be able to do both,” re- 
marked President Hopkins, smilingly. 

“ The catcher who tagged that boy out is 
now going to bat,” said Mr. Barry, looking 
up from his score-card. I don’t understand 
how it is, President Hopkins — your boys 


86 


The Rambler Club’s 


don^t seem able to hit. I know Anthony 
Tippen has quite a reputation ; but surely j 
with all their practice, sir, they ought to do 
better than this. By George — a most ridicu- 
lous spectacle I That chap has actually 
missed another.^^ 

“ Strikes me it^s a most dangerous game,^' 
said Professor Ivins. I declare, I should 
like to get a little further away, where those 
balls — what do they call them? — yes, yes : foul 
tips — a most ridiculous appellation, by the 
way — would not be so likely to hit us. I 
read of a case 

“ Strike two ! came from the umpire. 

“Disgusting — disgusting!’^ snorted Mr. 
Barry. “ An exhibition well worth missing. 
Sir?” 

Professor Hopkins seemed quite pained. 

“ I was saying that Tippen looks bigger and 
stronger than any of our players.” 

His manner was almost apologetic. 

“ There are plenty of boys in the high 
school quite as big,” snapped Mr. Barry. “ If 
the coach knows his business, why didn’t he 
select some of them ? ” 

“ Three strikes I Batter out I ” 


Ball Nine 87 

Mr. Barry thumped the bench vigorously 
with his knotted cane. 

I’m not sure that I shall wait to see the 
finish of the game,” he announced, stiffly. 

I quite agree with you,” added Professor 
Ivins, rising. “ If it is your pleasure, gentle- 
men ” 

Not yet,” answered Mr. Barry. He con- 
sulted his score-card. Alfred Boggs,” he 
said. I hope he does better than his prede- 
cessor.” 

But Alf,” as the right fielder was gener- 
ally called, didn’t. He simply fanned the air 
vigorously and was retired. 

‘‘ Now ‘ Jack Frost,’ ” exclaimed Bob Somers, 
** see if you can’t be the first to solve Tippen’s 
delivery.” 

Get those glum looks off your faces, fel- 
lows,” admonished Coach Steele. I’ll ad- 
mit Tippen is a mighty good lad ; but, re- 
member, they haven’t put a run across the 
plate yet.” 

‘‘ And won’t, either I ” cried Tom. 

The team eagerly watched “ Jack Frost,” as 
he faced his rival. The Star crowd still kept 
up their yells and quips. Frost, however, 


88 


The Rambler Club’s 


scarcely heard them. He had a burning am- 
bition to send a “ grass-cutter safely out of 
reach of the shortstop. 

‘‘ Gee, if I only get half a chance ! he 
murmured. 

With every nerve at high tension he waited. 

Striking vigorously at the first pitched ball, 
an electrifying crack filled his heart with glee. 

But the sphere, instead of taking the course 
he had hoped, launched itself fiercely upward 
and in the direction of the three gentlemen 
on the bench. The catcher, dashing his mask 
to the ground, sprinted hard. 

Foul ball I Batter out I told the story. 

As Jack threw his bat spitefully aside he 
observed a small body of freshmen drag- 
ging the bench into safer territory, with 
three dignified gentlemen following close be- 
hind. 

“ If he only drives them away it would be 
worth losing the game,^^ chuckled Benny 
. Wilkins. 

I hope it gave ^em a jolly good scare, 
observed “ Crackers Brown, sourly. They 
haven’t any business to be watching a game 
like this.” 


Ball Nine 


89 

“ Ha, ha I That’s, so” laughed Benny. 

When is a game not a game? 

When the Kingswood Stars play the 
Ramblers ? 

“ Oh, you rude thing. No ; when it's punk. 
Isn't the way our chaps play ball enough to 
make Barry plant corn on his lot?" 

“ Get out, you croakers I " snapped Harry 
Spearman. 

The game isn't over yet," put in little Joe 
Rodgers, whose generally smiling face looked 
grave. “Just wait till Dave Brandon gets 
another chance at bat." 

“ We've been doing nothing else but wait," 
growled “ Crackers." “ So far, it's been a 
sad, sad spectacle." 

“ Oh, cheer up," said Benny. “ Who grabs 
the stick now ? " 

“ Con Fuller." 

The Stars were swooping in from the field. 

“ Hurry up, fellows ; crack out a few runs, 
and finish the game I " sang out Nat. “ Tip- 
pen can't win it all alone." 

“I need just one more chance," said 
John Hackett. “ When it's my turn to bat 
if I don't knock down one of those out- 


90 The Rambler Club’s 

fielders I won^t eat any more pie until to- 
night.'^ 

Con Fuller, a big, aggressive-looking boy, 
smiled grimly. 

‘‘Just watch me, Hackett I he called. 
“ Here’s where the cover gets knocked off the 
ball.” 

“ Oh, my, a good dollar and a quarter ball 
gone to waste,” grinned Benny. “ Don’t do 
that, Con. Just dent it. Say, have you 
noticed how fierce Roycroft and Lawrence 
look ? I wonder if it’s Gufiin’s or ” 

“ Rah, rah, rah I Boom ! ” 

A furious blast rising from hundreds of 
throats made it evident that Con Fuller’s 
boast had almost come true. The cover was 
still on the ball, and it probably wasn’t even 
dented, but those who had been looking in 
the right direction saw the sphere sailing far 
over the left fielder’s head and stout Dave 
Brandon making a wild effort to overtake it. 

“ A three bagger, sure,” groaned Phelps. 

But, as the shouting crowd calmed down, 
they saw that Dave Brandon’s rapid recovery 
and accurate throw had held the runner at 
second. 


Ball Nine 


91 

Well, that^s going some, anyway I ” cried 
Nat, hilariously. 

‘‘ Bet if I was at bat now I could bring 
him in,'^ said Hackett. If you don’t do 
some good stick work, Sam Manning, there’ll 
be trouble.” 

Manning, vigorously chewing gum, had a 
determined glint in his eye. 

Frost is melting ; Frost is melting ; the 
pace is too warm for Frost I ” shouted Kirk 
Talbot. He’s getting weak ; his nerve is 
gone ! Hi, hi, hi I ” 

“ One ball I ” 

I told you so ! ” snickered Kirk. 

“ One strike ! ” 

‘‘ Take it easy, Sam. That was only an ac- 
cident,” advised John Hackett. 

Two strikes I ” 

Lam it, you pirate ; lam it I ” howled Nat. 

Manning smiled curiously. Then, as the 
ball again shot toward him, he bunted just 
inside the third base line. 

Baseman and pitcher dashed simultane- 
ously toward it. Benson, however, stopped 
the ball, which he tossed to Jack Frost ” 
with the laconic remark : 


92 


The Rambler Club’s 


Too late” 

Fuller and Manning played off the bases 
as far as they dared, worrying the pitcher to 
the best of their ability. 

Two men on the circuit and none down ! ” 
yelled John Hackett. ‘‘ DonT be afraid to 
take a chance, fellows. Go it. Fuller; get 
right off to third ! ” 

The number of gloomy faces among the 
high school contingent increased. 

“ I’ve a dreadful fear that the Ramblers are 
going to pieces,” muttered Benny, disconso- 
lately. Dave Brandon will never, never print 
the article I’m going to write. Hello — I 
reckon this settles it I ” 

George Marlow, left fielder of the Stars, had 
connected with the ball so successfully that 
next instant all three bases were occupied. 

The Stars found their voices once more. A 
vociferous din, in which megaphones and tin 
horns added to the volume, came from all 
parts of the field. 

“ Ah, here’s where I do it I ” cried John 
Hackett. Watch me, Nat. If I don’t ever- 
lastingly smack the pill I’ll work an hour 
overtime at the store.” 


Ball Nine 


93 


“ I can stand Hackett’s blow because it only 
makes you grin/’ mumbled Crackers.” He 
knows enough not to mean what he says.” 

Say, John looks as dangerous as a regular 
league player, doesn’t he ? ” 

The Stars’ coacher near first was bawling 
out his orders with monotonous regularity. 

It was an anxious moment for the High. 
With none out, the situation looked mighty 
serious, especially as one of Nat’s strongest 
batters stood at the plate. Two balls and a 
strike were called before John Hackett got 
into action. The tall player then swung with 
all his force. 

A terrific bounder shot off in the direction 
of first base. 

At the crack of the bat Conway Fuller, 
with lowered head, started for home. The 
rousing cheers of the Stars rose to frantic 
heights ; the purple and white rooters stood 
glum and silent. Tom Clifton sprang off his 
base to intercept the ball. The yells — the 
sight of the wildly-excited boys — made only 
an indistinct impression on his mind. For 
the moment, to him, nothing existed but the 
ball lashing viciously over the ground. 


94 


The Rambler Club’s 


It smacked resoundingly into his gloved 
hand. Without straightening up, Tom drove 
it unerringly home and sprang back to the 
sack. 

There was a different sound to the cheers 
which now reached his ears. They had a 
volume which made the preceding shouts fade 
into insignificance. Fuller was out at the 
plate, and Brentall had whipped the ball back 
to him. 

John Hackett was straining every muscle to 
reach the bag in safety. But, as an object 
whizzed past his head and a dull thud sounded, 
he realized that his effort had been in vain. 

In spite of a feeling of intense disappoint- 
ment, he slapped Tom Clifton on the shoul- 
der. 

Good work, old boy ; good work — a cork- 
ing double play I 

Tom^s eyes sparkled. Volleys of cheers for 
Clifton rang pleasantly in his ears. 

Thanks, Hackett,” he replied. ** I guess 
we can play a little when we try.” 

Sam Manning on third, not discouraged by 
Fuller’s failure to score, launched forward as 
Kirk Talbot singled. The followers of Nat 


Ball Nine 


95 


Wingate went wild with glee. The first run 
for the Stars was marked down on the score- 
board, and there were two on bases. 

*^Jack Frost’’ seemed to lose some of his 
control, while the high tension was evidently 
affecting several of the other players. Right 
Fielder Alf Boggs fumbled Jeff Wilber’s hot 
liner. Once again the score-keeper made an 
entry. 

And still two on bases,” groaned Joe 
Rodgers. 

The school team is going to be defeated, 
sir,” Mr. Rupert Barry was saying to President 
Hopkins. I’ve no doubt they will be white- 
washed.” 

Dear me — whitewashed ! ” exclaimed Pro- 
fessor Ivins, somewhat startled. He looked 
around, as though half expecting to see col- 
ored men with pails and brushes. ^‘White- 
washed ! ” he repeated. “ Do you mean the 
fence ? ” 

“ No I ” snorted Mr. Barry. ‘‘ The baseball 
nine.” 

“ Dear me — extraordinary I ” murmured the 
elderly professor, in puzzled tones. “ Doubt- 
less it is another of those preposterous expres- 


96 The Rambler Club’s 

sions connected with baseball parlance. Is 
it, I might ask, a — a general custom to re- 
fer 

I fear it will be whenever these boys play 
the Stars,'’ said Mr. Barry, grimly. 

It was a disastrous inning for the school 
team. Before big Bill Steevers' pop fly fell 
into the hands of ‘‘ Jack Frost " the Stars had 
three runs to their credit. 

“ Never mind, fellows," said Bob Somers, 
cheerily. It’s a part of the game.’’ 

Of course,’’ laughed Dave. “ If it weren’t 
for Tony Tippen we’d probably have twice 
that many runs ourselves.’’ 

“ A game’s never lost until it’s over,’’ said 
Coach Steele. You’re playing against a 
pitcher of unusual ability. But don’t let that 
discourage you for a moment.’’ 

The end of the eighth inning found the score 
four to nothing in favor of the Stars. 

We’ll simply have to do something now,’’ 
growled Tom Clifton. Just listen to Nat 
Wingate howling. If we don’t, maybe he and 
Hackett won’t go strutting around town proud 
as peacocks.’’ 

Roycroft, if you’d been in this game there 


Ball Nine 


97 

might be a different story to tell/^ grumbled 
“ Crackers ’’ — eh, Earl ? 

I’m not saying anything,” answered the 
former football guard. 

“ But I am,” put in Owen Lawrence. 

These chaps seem to be weak on the stick 
work.” 

“ You never faced Tony Tippen,” sniffed 
Benny Wilkins. 

Well, if I couldn’t do any more than 
sideswipe the air I’d be sorry. Who’s up ? ” 

Charlie Blake.” 

“ Then we might as well go home.” 

Charlie, fully determined to do his share 
toward staving off a disastrous defeat, stilled 
a nervous flutter at his heart. 

Better to make a try than stand still and 
hear the umpire yell, ‘ Three strikes and 
out ! ’ ” he reflected. 

He aimed at the second ball, and perhaps 
no one on the lot was more surprised than he 
to hear a sharp crack and to see the horse-hide 
whirling off into space. 

Spurred on by a furious din from the purple 
and white, he sped down the first base line long 
before the ball was returned to the infield. 


The Rambler Club’s 


98 

The players who had looked so gloomy a few 
moments before brightened up amazingly. 
After all, Tony Tippen could be hit. It was 
a pleasant surprise to many. 

Oh, ginger I If we'd only started this 
thing in the earlier innings I " groaned Tom 
Clifton, as he picked up a bat. If Blake 
could do it, so can 1." 

With all his judgment, he aimed at the first 
ball which cut the plate. 

It was the hardest swing of which Tom 
Clifton was capable. The ball, . struck 
squarely, flew to the left of second base. Nat 
Wingate, leaping in the air with upraised 
hand, stopped its onward progress. The 
sphere rolled to the ground. 

With a swift dive, Nat recovered it, stepped 
on the base and shot the ball to first. 

It was the nearest the high school team 
came to scoring that day. Bob Somers, the 
next batter, going out on a foul. 

The Kingswood Stars and their friends were 
warm and happy. Tony Tippen became the 
hero of the hour. He accepted his honors 
modestly. 

But Nat Wingate and John Hackett, who 


Ball Nine 


99 

came in for their share of lionization, did not 
take the victory so quietly. 

Now let somebody call us * Pie-eaters ' ! 
jeered Nat. I say, Clifton, do we need some 
dieting ? Won^t you join us at a doughnut 
party to-night ? 

Get out ! ” retorted Tom, angrily. One 
more inning, and we'd have had you going." 

Oh, yes ; you'd have had us going around 
the bases one after another." 

Over by the bench Mr. Barry was punctuat- 
ing some remarks with emphatic motions of 
his knotty cane. 

Extraordinary — extraordinary I Not even 
one of them got as far as second base I " 

I suppose you will not come again, sir? " 
ventured Professor Ivins. 

I most certainly shall," answered Mr. 
Barry. “ But I hope to goodness I'll see a 
more cheering sight on the next occasion." 

The boys who happened to hear these re- 
marks told their companions. As fast as 
though the air had wafted the words from one 
point to another the school had them on the 
tip of its tongue. And they grew in impor- 
tance in the process of traveling about. 


lOO 


The Rambler Club’s 

“ Never mind, fellows,^’ remarked Bob 
Somers, as they gathered in the gymnasium. 

There are two more games with the Stars 
before the inter-scholastic championship be- 
gins.’^ 

A boy rushing wildly into the doorway 
attracted his attention. 

Hello, Benny I What^s up ? ” drawled 
Dave Brandon. 

“An awful lot cried Wilkins, breath- 
lessly. “ What do you think ? Luke Phelps 
just told me he heard that Mr. Barry said he 
was so disgusted he thought of withdrawing 
his offer — honest fact. Say, Brandon, does 
that article of mine have to be typewritten ? ” 

“ I^m not so sure the ^ Reflector ’ will touch 
very heavily on recent sporting matters, 
answered Dave, smiling. 

“ Is Phelps in the room ? 

Tom Clifton’s gruff voice rose clearly. 

“ Sure ! Just came in. What’s the row ? ” 
answered a voice. 

“ Who told you what Mr. Barry said ? ” 

Phelps pushed his way between the groups 
toward the players. 

“ Everybody. No one caught his exact 


Ball Nine 


101 


words, but they must have been something 
pretty hot. There are enough rumors floating 
around to hurt your eyes if they could be seen. 
It’s been a fierce day, hasn’t it? ” 

When Tom Clifton walked home that even- 
ing he passed the field for the use of which 
the club was fighting. 

It had never looked more alluring. He 
stopped to gaze over its broad green expanse 
with wistful eyes. His glances wandered 
from one no-trespassing sign to another. 
They looked much more formidable now 
than they ever had before. 

Great Scott ! ” murmured Tom. “ What 
a beginning — four to nothing I ” 


CHAPTER VIII 


DISCOURAGEMENT 

The sting of defeat lasted for some time 
with the students of the Kingswood High. 
The friends of the Stars crowed loudly over 
their victory ; and Tom Clifton, whose boast- 
ing previous to the game had annoyed so 
many, received a generous share of sarcastic 
flings. 

The disquieting rumors which resulted 
from Mr. Barry’s remarks hovered over the 
school with unpleasant persistency. 

“ Honest, Bob, it wasn’t fair of him to pitch 
into the crowd at the very first crack of the 
bat,” exclaimed Tom, morosely, in the gym a 
few days later. 

Nobody seems to know just what he did 
say,” chuckled Bob. 

Don’t worry, Tom, old boy,” said Dave. 
** Athletes should keep their minds free from 
care.” 

“ Wonder if I hadn’t better go and see 
him ? ” mused Tom. 


102 


Ball Nine 


103 


“ Goodness, no ! 

“ Well, here’s the latest.’’ 

“ Wait till I get my note-book,” cried 
Benny. “Three forty-five p. m. ‘The latest 
— as told by Mr. Clifton.’ Go ahead, Tom.” 

Tom scowled fiercely. 

“ It isn’t any laughing matter, son,” he 
exclaimed, grimly. “ You all know what an 
eccentric old man Mr. Barry is ” 

“ But not so much as to make him un- 
reasonable,” suggested Coach Steele. 

“ Oh, I don’t know. Listen.” 

The squad “ listened,” as did many lads 
who crowded the big room. 

“ He’s an eccentric old creature,” repeated 
Tom. He glanced sternly into Benny’s grin- 
ning face. “What do you think? I heard 
that one of the fellows — one of our fellows, 
mind you — said the way we played ball was 
enough to make Mr. Barry plant corn on his 
lot.” 

“ Oh — oh I ” gasped Benny Wilkins, faintly. 

“ Yes, it’s so. I’d just like to find him and 
punch his head.” 

“ That isn’t enough to get excited about,” 
laughed Bob Somers. 


104 The Rambler Club’s 

You haven^t heard the worst. Some chap 
with more tongue than brains thought it was 
such a good joke he’d have to tell somebody 
else, and Mr. Barry happened to hear what 
he said. And ” 

What happened ? ” demanded Benny, even 
more faintly than before. 

Mr. Barry got angry — told Professor Hop- 
kins he hadn’t thought of it before, but 
if that was the way the school was talking he 
thought the idea might be a good one. If I 
knew who said it in the first place I’d punch 
him right here.” 

Maybe some one could point him out,” 
suggested Crackers ” Brown, pleasantly. 

How about it, Spearman? ” 

Benny Wilkins made a determined effort 
to look innocent and unconcerned. It was a 
most distressing moment until he realized 
that Spearman, although he guffawed loudly, 
had nothing to say. 

A solemn grin played about the corners of 
Brown’s mouth. 

“ I’ll bet it was you, ^ Crackers ’ I ” cried 
Tom. 

Couldn’t have been I,” mumbled Brown, 


Ball Nine 


105 

because I have more brains than tongue. I 
didn^t do it. But if you want to scrap Til 
accommodate you right now.’^ 

Never mind/^ said Benny, joining in a 
roar of mirth. Wait until they lose the 
next game.'^ 

“ 1^11 get him yet,’’ announced Tom, fiercely. 
“ See here, manager ” — he turned toward Lou 
Mercer — “ we play the Goose Hill fellows 
next Saturday ? ” 

Correct I ” 

If any more boys in the school think Mr. 
Barry’s lot ought to be turned into a corn 
field they’ll change their opinion after that 
game.” 

“ We’ll see,” said Owen Lawrence, shaking 
his head very knowingly. 

What we shall see,” supplemented “ Crack- 
ers.” 

I think,” mused Benny, that I’ll finish 
my article on the baseball game. Goodness I 
Wouldn’t it be awful if somebody should tell 
Mr. Barry what Tom called him — an eccentric 
old creature ? ” 

Study and practice kept the boys busy for 
the rest of the week. 


The Rambler Club’s 


io6 

The Goose Hill crowd had considerable 
reputation, although the Stars had won a 
spirited contest from them by the score of five 
to three. 

Goose Hill was situated on the outskirts of 
Kingswood, not far from Wolf River. The 
inhabitants of the Hill, for the most part, 
worked in the big mills which skirted the 
river for some distance. They were rough 
but honest people, living in neat little houses 
which generally stood in the midst of spacious 
yards. Many cultivated the ground, or di- 
rected their attention to the raising of poultry. 
The Hill owed its name to the fact that a ma- 
jority of the bird fanciers chose geese as a 
means of adding to their incomes. 

There were some odd and picturesque 
corners on the Hill decidedly pleasing to 
those artistically inclined. Dave Brandon 
had often wandered about, sketch-book in 
hand, and, in this way, met Mr. Stephen 
Kimbole, proprietor of the general store which 
crowned the elevation. 

No one within the confines of the Hill was 
ever heard to call him Mr. Kimbole, however. 
To every man, woman and child he was 


Ball Nine 


107 


Uncle Steve. “Uncle” Steve, though a 
little, dried-up man of uncertain age, still 
possessed plenty of life and energy. 

From his porch one could look down upon 
the river and the busy mills sending up clouds 
of smoke and steam. Not far from the base 
of the hill, and some distance in from the 
river, a large stretch of turf was given over to 
the mill workers for their sports. They had 
crack football and baseball teams, and had 
won notable victories. 

“ Uncle ” Steve seldom failed to attend the 
baseball games. He was regarded as a crank 
on the subject. Few knew more about the fine 
points of the game than the old store-keeper. 

The thought of the Goose Hillers having a 
series of games with the Kingswood High 
filled him with delight. 

“ ril be there,” he exclaimed to Dave 
Brandon the day before the game. “ I'd 
sooner lose a quarter's sales than miss it.” 

So, on the next afternoon, “ Uncle ” Steve 
was a prominent figure among the great crowd 
which gathered to witness the contest. Most 
of the Nat Wingate contingent seemed to be 
on hand. 


io8 The Rambler Club’s 


On this occasion Nat^s loyalty to the school 
made him a partisan of the “ Ramblers,” as 
many still persisted in calling them. When 
the players appeared on the scene a tre- 
mendous volley of shouts and blasts from 
megaphones assailed their ears. 

Just listen to the mean bunch I ” growled 
Tom Clifton. You’d think they were all 
on our side. I guess Nat is going to try and 
rattle us.” 

“ Don’t let him,” counseled Benny Wilkins. 
‘‘ Oh, say, there’s Mr. Rupert Barry al- 
ready.” 

“ If I hear of any of our fellows saying 
mean things about the club this afternoon 
they’ll find me down on ’em like a ton of red- 
hot bricks.” Tom glared around sternly. 

Think I know, now, who got off that silly 
jabber about the corn field.” 

Who ? ” asked Benny. 

Owen Lawrence.” 

“ I — 1 don’t think so,” stammered Benny. 

What do you know about it ? ” 

I — I — that is — I just thought — er — er — 
that ” 

Oh, of course, nobody said it was Law- 


Ball Nine 


109 

rence. But he looks mighty funny every 
time I mention it/' 

Benny changed the subject. 

‘‘ The Hillers look like a likely bunch," he 
exclaimed. Who's that funny little man 
over there with a white beard ? Shouldn’t 
think he’d trot out to see a game of ball.’’ 

“ You couldn’t drive him away with one 
of Nat’s megaphones,’’ said Tom. It’s 
^ Uncle ’ Steve Kimbole. Reckon he knows 
who stitched the first ball and who broke the 
last bat.’’ 

The school nine, in their natty uniforms, 
were given a cordial greeting as they marched 
toward home plate. 

The big crowd witnessed a highly interest- 
ing game. 

But two costly errors and a great batting 
rally of the Goose Hillers in the eighth were 
the two principal reasons for the home team 
winning by the score of seven to three. 

On several occasions, under fire, both 
Jack Frost ’’ and Charlie Blake showed 
signs of going to pieces. It was a mighty dis- 
gusted lot of boys that finally boarded the 
Kingswood trolley. 


110 


The Rambler Club’s 


Several scouts, who had been eager to pick 
up whatever crumbs of information fell from 
the lips of Mr. Barry, were on the same car, 
as anxious to supply the news as the others 
were to hear it. 

He was downright mad,^^ announced 
Luke Phelps, who had the honor of carrying 
three bats and three pairs of gloves. 

Phelps waited so that this news could have 
all the bad effect possible. 

** Anybody could see that,” added a junior. 
Not all the boys had been able to find 
seats, but Phelps, nowise bashful in company, 
spoke loud enough for all to hear, as he con- 
tinued : 

Yes — he said it certainly looked as if the 
corn would win the field. He kicked about 

lack of judgment on several plays, and ” 

“ Said Somers needs stronger and heavier 
players,” broke in another junior, eagerly — 
heard that with my own ears.” 

** You couldn^t have heard it with anybody 
else’s,” growled Art Bowers. 

‘‘ Say anything more ? ” came a query from 
the front end of the car. 

“ A whole lot of things,” answered Phelps, 


Ball Nine in 

with importance, but I can’t think of any 
just now.” 

Another sad, sad day,” remarked “ Crack- 
ers ” Brown, solemnly. 

You chaps are talking like a bunch of 
quitters,” howled Tom. 

I’m just stating facts.” 

“ We’re not discouraged. Brown,” said Bob 
Somers. The team hasn’t shown its true 
form yet.” 

Of course it hasn’t,” asserted Roger Steele. 
‘‘Just give us a chance, boys. There was a 
little lack of team work in to-day’s game, 
and ” — he smiled rather grimly — “ some of 
the boys were a bit rattled by the noise and 
excitement. They couldn’t do themselves 
justice.” 

“ 1 guess he means me.” 

Charlie Blake’s foot touched the heel of 
his neighbor’s shoe. 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” returned the other, 
encouragingly. He lowered his voice. 
“ When the fellows were most yelling their 
heads off, didn’t ‘ Jack Frost ’ send three men 
to base on balls in succession ? ” 

“Just as soon as the game is over I feel 


112 


The Rambler Club’s 

how much better I could have played,’^ sighed 
Charlie. Honest fact — all that rooting does 
get on my nerves.^' 

Just because you’re not used to it.” 

Nat Wingate’s crowd certainly acted 
handsomely by you chaps,” remarked 
“Crackers.” “Nat is just as solid for the 
good of the school as we are.” 

Suddenly the high, piping voice of the 
youngest junior rose clearly above the clatter 
of tongues and the steady rumble and grind 
of wheels : 

“ Yes ; it was the funniest sight I ever saw. 
He acted just like a kid ; yelled as loud as a 
pirate I And the queerest part of all was that 
he seemed kind of chummy with Mr. Barry.” 

“ I guess ^ Uncle ’ Steve was figuring on 
selling him a bag of peanuts after the game,” 
said a sandy-haired sophomore. 

“ Heard him say he was coming over to see 
the next game between the Stars and Ram- 
blers,” announced the first. 

“ Sure he didn’t say slaughter ? ” asked 
“ Crackers,” gazing innocently over the rim 
of his glasses. 

The crowd was in a tumult. 


Ball Nine 


“3 

Put him off, conductor ! ’’ bawled Benny 
Wilkins. He’s been rude to the nine.” 

If things don’t go better I’ll be ruder yet,” 
said Crackers.” 

When the car swung into the depot the 
crowd seemed to melt away on the instant, 
leaving the rather gloomy-looking members 
of the nine to make their way to the gym- 
nasium alone. Even Phelps seemed to con- 
sider it no longer an honor to burden himself 
with bats, balls and other articles. 

I can’t understand it,” growled Tom 
Clifton. “ Just think, Dave — seven to three I ” 

Oh ho ! We can’t win every time, Tom,” 
returned Dave, dryly. 

Cut out any gloomy talk, fellows,” advised 
Coach Steele, earnestly. Be good losers. 
Let each defeat make you only grit your teeth 
and plunge in all the harder.” 

That’s the talk ! ” cried Blake, brightening 
up. We’ll do it.” 

As the days followed each other, Steele’s 
earnest efforts served to put new life and vigor 
into the team. The Somersites stuck manfully 
to the nine. Any set of boys who could in- 
augurate a new era in the athletic affairs of 


114 


The Rambler Club’s 


the High were not going to be deserted simply 
because they had begun the season by losing 
a couple of games. 

Even their ardor and enthusiasm, however, 
received a rude jolt when the school nine 
and the Stars again clashed. The score, 
six to one, told the story of an event which 
helped to make history for the High. Only 
those who didn’t favor Bob Somers and his 
crowd cared to talk about it. 

They were willing to admit the nine had 
made some brilliant plays, but pointed out the 
fact that these same brilliant plays were always 
on the defensive. They said, too, that when 
Blake got rattled he was badly rattled ; and, 
according to the way “ Crackers ” summed up 
the situation, when the bases were full ‘‘Jack 
Frost ” was likely to fall down harder than a 
chimney in a gale of wind. 

“ Sit tight and don’t say a thing,” advised 
Owen Lawrence. “ The school’ll wake up in 
time.” 

Benny Wilkins^ articles on the ball games 
did not find a place in the “ Refiector,” but, 
possibly, they were read by nearly as many 
students as though they had. Some glanced 


Ball Nine 


"5 


over their contents with roars of laughter, 
while others waxed so highly wroth as to cause 
Benny to steer a careful course in another 
direction when they approached. 

Quickly following the game with the Stars 
came another against Goose Hill, this time on 
the home grounds. 

Another disheartening page was written in 
the history of the school’s athletics. The 
official score-card bore this entry : 

“ Goose Hill 8 : Kingswood High 2.” 

On the day following Coach Roger Steele 
received a laconic letter which read : 

'' Dear Sir : 

“ Kindly call and see me this evening. 
Bring Robert Somers with you. 

‘‘ Yours truly, 

“ Rupert Barry.’’ 


CHAPTER IX 


ME. BAKRY ASKS QUESTIONS 

If there had been any guide-book of the 
prosperous town of Kingswood undoubtedly 
Mr. Rupert Barry^s mansion would have re- 
ceived a prominent mention in its pages. 
Stone steps zigzagged between stone walls to 
the top of the hill. The mansion of the 
eccentric millionaire, in the midst of spacious 
grounds, could scarcely be seen from the road. 
It seemed as though the architect and builder 
had found a positive pleasure in concealing 
from view as much as possible of the rich and 
ornate structure. 

It was already dark when Bob Somers and 
Coach Roger Steele began mounting the steps. 
The glare from electric lamps on the street 
flooded some of the flights ; others were left 
in almost abysmal blackness. 

As the two neared the bronze gate at the 
top the sound of wildly scurrying feet caused 
116 


Ball Nine 


117 


both to stop. A series of savage snarls and 
barks echoed weirdly, as the yellow dog, dark 
and formless in the gloom, hurled its body 
against the gate. 

I don’t wonder Mr. Barry hasn’t many 
visitors,” murmured Steele, softly. 

Hope we don’t get as hot a reception in- 
side the house,” chuckled Bob, in equally 
low tones. 

Unless some one can persuade the men- 
agerie department to leave I shall leave,” said 
Steele. Ah ! The situation is saved.” 

“ Come here, Canis ; come right here ! ” 

The two recognized the harsh voice of Mr. 
Barry, and, an instant later, heard the sound 
of his footsteps on the gravel path. 

“Who is there?” The words were flung 
at them with a sort of challenging querulous- 
ness. “ Confound that dog ! Who is there, 
I say ? ” 

The tall, gaunt form of the millionaire 
presently loomed above the ornamental curves 
and twists of the gate. 

“ Roger Steele and Bob Somers,” answered 
the coach. 

“ Then why didn’t you say so before ? ” 


The Rambler Club’s 


118 

The gate swung silently back on its 
well-oiled hinges. Several sharp commands 
promptly reduced Canis to a state of docility. 

Come in.’^ 

Neither Bob Somers nor Steele had ever 
visited the Barry mansion, so, as they fol- 
lowed the elderly gentleman along the path, 
they looked about them with the greatest in- 
terest. 

It was a beautiful, starlit night with enough 
illumination to show a profusion of shrubbery 
and flower beds. Here and there great pines, 
dark and forbidding, rose like grim sentinels 
against the sky. Above the stone coping of 
the wall which surrounded the grounds, 
masses of buildings and scattered lights 
faintly indicated the town. 

The stately mansion looked dull and 
gloomy, six heavy columns at the entrance 
alone showing in a lighter tone. All the win- 
dows but one were staring patches of dark, 
while from the exception rays of greenish 
light poured out, to streak across the veranda 
with weird effect. 

Mr. Barry immediately led the two boys 
into his study, brightly illuminated by an 



WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH THE BALL NINE ?” 






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Ball Nine 


119 


electric lamp with a green shade. In the 
center of the large room stood a table piled 
high with books. Everything indicated that 
the millionaire had been busy writing when 
disturbed by the barking of Canis. 

He motioned his visitors to seats near by, 
taking his own in the revolving chair before 
his writing materials. 

The green light brought out his angular 
features with uncompromising frankness, giv- 
ing him the appearance of some inquisitor of 
old about to interrogate an unwilling subject. 

“ Mr. Steele,'’ he jerked out sharply, after 
his stern gaze had rested on their features for 
a moment, “ what is the matter with the ball 
nine ? " 

** It has not shown its true worth yet," an- 
swered Steele, calmly. 

“ Why so ? You have played four games, 
and each time met defeat." His eyes shifted 
to Bob Somers. It is not what I expected. 
You understand, of course, that in order to 
gain the field the nine must make a good 
showing — a very good showing?" 

Yes, sir ; we understand," said Steele. 

“ I had hoped by the enthusiasm displayed 


120 


The Rambler Club’s 


in putting the athletic affairs of the school on 
a sound basis that the baseball team would 
have a corresponding strength. I’m disap- 
pointed.” 

Roger Steele was not flustered by the man- 
ner or tone of his questioner. 

“ You must remember this, Mr. Barry,” he 
answered, quietly : “ the nine has met two of 
the strongest amateur clubs in the vicinity. 
I’m not offering excuses — only explaining the 
facts.” 

Mr. Barry’s silver knife rattled vigorously 
on the table. 

What kind of teams did you expect to 
play ? ” he demanded. 

Coach Steele ignored the thrust. 

'‘Tony Tippen is a pitcher of exceptional 
ability,” he said, “ and has good support. 
Without Tippen in the box I believe we could 
even now defeat the Stars. The Goose Hill 
lads are big, husky chaps whose players are 
much older and far more seasoned than 
ours.” 

“ Why didn’t you select bigger boys— Earl 
Roycroft, for instance ? As guard on the 
football eleven he played exceptionally well.” 


Ball Nine 


121 


The coach flushed slightly. 

“ 1 have played on a champion university 
team,’’ he said, and when engaged by the 
athletic association of the Kingswood High I 
was given a free hand to choose whichever 
candidates seemed to be the most promising. 
I believe in the end my selections will prove 
to be wise ones.” 

“ Am I to understand, then, that you con- 
sulted no one in the matter ? ” 

“ No ; I can hardly say that, Mr. Barry.” 
Have you any objections to letting me 
know from whom you received suggestions? ” 
Not the slightest. Bob Somers, for one ; 
also Sam Randall, Harry Spearman and sev- 
eral others.” 

There was an awkward pause while the two 
waited for Mr. Barry to speak. The rattle of 
the silver knife alone broke the silence of the 
big room. 

'' Your reply has the merit of frankness,” 
said the millionaire, at length. He leaned 
forward, resting his chin in the palm of his 
hand. Remember — there must be no senti- 
ment in this matter. Throw off any player 
who does not come up to requirements. To be 


122 


The Rambler Club’s 


honest with yourself and the school you can- 
not do otherwise/^ 

Coach Steele quieted a feeling of indignation 
which suddenly flared up within him. After 
all, he reflected, a man who had made such a 
magnificent ofier to the school, and who felt 
such a deep interest in the welfare of its ball 
nine, must be pardoned if he spoke a little 
brutally. 

“ I don’t believe there’s a single member of 
the team who would not cheerfully step out if 
he thought it best for the school,” he said. 

‘‘ I’m sure of it, too,” spoke up Bob Somers, 
earnestly. You see, Mr. Barry, several of us 
traveled around a good bit, and, as Roger 
said, haven’t had as much opportunity to play 
in regular games.” 

That doesn’t affect the matter,” returned 
Mr. Barry, bluntly. “ If you can’t play, why 
are you on the team ? ” 

Oh, we don’t admit we can’t play,” 
laughed Bob. “ I think, before very long, 
your opinion of the club will change.” 

I hope so,” said Mr. Barry. My object 
in sending for you was to enforce upon you 
— I am going to speak plainly — this principle : 


Ball Nine 


123 

there must be no favoritism. Meanwhile I 
suspend judgment.” 

The two rose to their feet and bowed. 

You may be sure therein be no favoritism 
while I am coach,” said Steele, a trifle stiffly. 

I hope, Mr. Barry, we shall see you at the 
next game.” 

Very probably.” Mr. Barry pressed a 
button. Cassius will accompany you to the 
gate.” 

Coach Steele and Bob Somers, bidding 
the millionaire good-evening, were presently 
joined in the hallway by the servant, already 
provided with a lantern. 

A little light on a dark night ainT such a 
bad thing,” said Cassius, cheerily, as he led 
the way outside. A header down them 
steep steps wouldnT be calculated to do a feller 
any good.” 

No ; not even a ball player could stand 
it,” chuckled Bob. 

Cassius laughed softly. 

All who play ball ain’t ball players,” he 
remarked. “ Great sport, though. Nobody 
’ud ever think it, but Mr. Barry’s one o’ the 
greatest fans out — yes, sir. Never goes to any 


124 


The Rambler Club’s 


of the big cities without taking in a game or 
two. Latin an^ ball playin’s his hobbies.’’ 

The latch clicked sharply as Cassius pulled 
open the big bronze gate. 

Good luck, boys. I sure hope you’ll win 
the grounds,” he said, as his swinging lantern 
began to cut a pathway of yellow light down 
the zigzag stone steps. 

Once on the street. Coach Steele and Bob 
Somers watched his form slowly remounting, 
to disappear behind the first turn, leaving 
only erratic spots of light flitting from place 
to place on coping or shrubbery. 

Some visit, that ! ” laughed Roger. Still 
there’s a rugged honesty about the man I 
like.” 

“ Eight forty-five p. m. ‘ Coach Steele 
discovers there’s a rugged honesty about the 
man he likes.’ I’ll make a note of that.” 

A slight boy suddenly emerged from the 
deep shadow of a tree-box a few paces distant, 
and, as he advanced into the cold glare of an 
electric light, its rays revealed the grinning 
face of Benny Wilkins. 


CHAPTER X 


THE FEAKLESS ’’ ARRIVES 

Well I declare ! What in thunder are 
you doing here, Benny Wilkins ? cried Bob 
Somers, somewhat startled, and not altogether 
pleased at his unexpected appearance. 

Spying,^’ answered Benny, candidly. 

There’s a rugged honesty about that an- 
swer that I like,” laughed Steele. Still, 
you ought to be at home studying, instead of 
cavorting around the street at this hour.” 

“ Never cavorted in my life,” grinned 
Benny. 

‘‘ What were you doing here ? ” asked Bob. 

Until about sixty seconds ago, hiding be- 
hind that tree-box.” 

Oh, come now, Benny I ” 

Sure ! Which way ? ” Then Wilkins’ 
manner abruptly changed ; a serious expres- 
sion flitted into his brown eyes. Say, Bob, 
what was it all about ? Why’d you go to Mr. 
Barry’s ? ” His hand fell on the captain’s 
125 


126 The Rambler Club’s 


wrist. Tell me. I can hardly wait. Did 
he sit on you hard ? 

Not so hard as to make us feel soft,’^ 
grinned Bob. Now, Benny, before I say 
another word 

“ All right I I know what you mean. 
This is the way it happened. I live close by 
here, you know, and I was standing at the 
front gate, chinning to a couple of fellows, 
when I saw you and Roger walk by on the 
opposite side of the street. When they left, 
a few moments later, I chased after you, and 
was just about catching up, when — Gee Whit- 
aker ! Astonishment still fills me — you 
turned into Mr. Rupert Barry’s. ^ Some- 
thing’s in the wind to make those chaps 
climb such a flight of steps,’ I said to myself. 
So it was me for the lying-in-wait act until 
you trotted out, ready to give explanations. 
Ha, ha I Say — you fellows looked awful glad 
to see me. Now fire away. Bob.” 

I must refer you to Mr. Rupert Barry,” 
returned Bob, smilingly. 

Oh, come, that’s mean. What ! Aero- 
plane up those steps to have an interview 
with a big yellow dog at the top ? Well, I 


Ball Nine 


127 

should rather say nix I Go on — tell me about 
it.’^ 

Nothing doing/' said Bob. 

'' Not a word for the note-book/' chuckled 
Steele. 

Well, I'll make an entry, just the same," 
snapped Benny, highly aggrieved. It'll 
read like this : * Mysterious visit of Coach 
Steele and Bob Somers to Mr. Rupert Barry's. 
Principals refuse to be interviewed. Were 
they called down for the punk showing of the 
team ? ' " 

With a loud, “ Good-night I " the tone of 
which indicated a decidedly ruffled state of 
feeling, Benny was off. 

“A sarcastic little chap," declared Roger 
Steele. “ I'm rather sorry this happened. 
He's a regular chatterbox, you know." 

Benny is good hearted enough, but 
thoughtless," mused Bob. If the fellows 
hear about our calling upon Mr. Barry they 
may put too serious a construction on it." 

And ^ Crackers ' Brown and his crowd 
haven't been silenced by any means." 

“ They can't knock my confidence in the 
team. What kind of stuff would a captain 


128 The Rambler Club’s 


be made of to become discouraged at the very 
outset ? ** 

‘‘ That's the talk,” said Steele, approvingly. 
Let the croakers croak. Perhaps we know 
our own business best.” 

As Steele had feared, the news leaked 
out. Benny Wilkins told a friend, in confi- 
dence ; this friend unbosomed himself to a 
chum, in confidence, and so on, until the 
leak ” could only be compared to the burst- 
ing of a great water main that sends up 
streams far above the housetops. 

Naturally enough, it created a mild sensa- 
tion. Boys discussed it animatedly on the 
campus, as they walked home, and at Terry 
Quffin's. In some remarkable manner vague 
suggestions of what Mr. Barry may have said 
became changed, by a steady process of evo- 
lution, into definite phrases. 

Bob expressed the situation correctly when 
he said : 

'' Those ^ They say ' chaps have the floor.” 

But the Somers party treated all insinu- 
ations and rumors with a hot breath of scorn 
that almost, but not quite, extinguished the 
tiny fire which was kindled. 


Ball Nine 


129 


A few days later three lads strolling along 
the bank of Wolf River were considerably 
surprised and interested to discover a large 
motor yacht approaching. 

Some of the richer residents of Kingswood 
owned gasoline launches or yachts ; but none 
could be compared to the magnificent boat 
which now cut swiftly through the placid 
water of the river. 

Well, that^s certainly a corker, remarked 
Luke Phelps, who had been busily engaged in 
throwing stones at a half-submerged barrel. 

Never saw a finer,^’ said Jim Wilton, a 
junior at the High. “ Wonder what she's 
doing here ? Slowing up, by Jingo I " 

All boats slow up before they stop," 
grinned Phelps. Say, fellows, it’s got a 
real saucy name, hasn’t it?’’ 

The ^ Fearless,’ ’’ read Jim. ** Makes me 
think of the high school ball nine. They’re 
fearless before defeat.’’ 

Or fearless afterward — in this case, the 
same thing,’’ came from Aleck Parks. 

If Roycroft had any sand he’d be on the 
team. He seems to be as soft as his muscles 
are hard. Well, I declare, that yacht is com- 


130 The Rambler Club’s 

ing inshore. Wonder who the lucky owner 
can be ? ” 

They must have spilled a few barrelsful 
of white paint on it. Hello I There’s some- 
body getting ready to heave the anchor. Let’s 
loaf around here, fellows, and see what hap- 
pens.” 

The strange yacht was moored a bit further 
up-stream ; and a few moments afterward the 
trio saw a small boat being lowered and three 
people take their places in it. 

Luke Phelps’ curiosity was stirred. He be- 
gan scrambling down the steep bank to a 
stretch of flat shore which bordered the stream. 

The yacht’s dory had already pushed off, 
and, under the strokes of a muscular oarsman, 
was making steady progress toward a rude 
wharf. Long rippling lines spreading out from 
its bow caught brilliant gleams from golden 
and purplish clouds floating lazily above. 

The boys walked fast, reaching the rickety 
pile of boards just as two occupants of the boat 
clambered upon them. 

Phelps was immediately impressed with a 
strange dissimilarity in their appearance. 
One was a big burly man with a brown beard 


Ball Nine 


> 3 * 


dressed in a yachting suit of blue ; the other a 
slight lad attired in clothes of the finest tex- 
ture, wearing a large checkered cap and a de- 
cidedly saucy grin. 

Looks as if he’d melt away in a rain 
storm,” remarked Phelps, confidentially, to 
Aleck. Got a peach of a complexion, hasn’t 
he ? Just the kind of a chap you have to talk 
gently to for fear o’ hurting his feelings.” 

“ Soak him a good one on the ribs and he’d 
most likely blubber,” whispered Aleck. 

Speak to me, sir ? ” 

“ I did,” answered the man in the yachting 
costume. The strength of his voice was in 
full accord with the size of his frame. Do 
any of you boys know Bob Somers ? ” 

‘‘ Bob Somers ! ” cried Phelps, arching his 
eyebrows in surprise. “ Well, ra-ther ! ” 

And a tall, gawky chap named Tom Clif- 
ton ? ” came from the boy in the checkered 
cap. 

‘‘ I should say so.” 

** And Joe Rodgers? ” asked the big man. 

Yes, sir I ” 

“ Then I suppose you know Dave Brandon 
and Charlie Blake ? ” 


132 


The Rambler Club’s 


No mistake about that, cap'n,^^ answered 
Phelps, whose curiosity was receiving addi- 
tional impetus from the visitors^ questions. 

“Will you kindly direct me how to reach 
Bob Somers’ residence ? ” 

“ I’ll do more’n that ; I’ll lead you right to 
it,” responded Luke Phelps, eagerly. 

He reflected that this would be the best way 
to And out all about the strangers in the short- 
est possible time. 

It was this same sort of feeling, no doubt, 
which prompted the others to second his prop- 
osition. 

“ It’s mighty easy to get all twisted up in 
the woods around here,” explained Jim. “ Oh, 
no ; you won’t be putting us to any trouble. 
We’ve attended to our most pressing business 
engagements for the day.” 

“ You are a very accommodating lot,” 
laughed the big man. “ Lead on.” 

In his new capacity as guide Luke Phelps 
made the best use of the opportunity to satisfy 
his curiosity. This, he found, did not require 
a great deal of diplomacy. The boys soon 
learned that they were talking to Captain 
Ralph Bunderley, of Kenosha, and Victor 


Ball Nine 


»33 

Collins, his nephew, son of a widely-known 
Chicago lawyer. 

They also became aware of the fact that the 
captain, who owned the motor yacht Fear- 
less,” and his young relative had met several 
of the Ramblers, Charlie Blake and Joe Rod- 
gers, during the preceding fall, when the boys 
were making a motor car trip from Chicago to 
Kingswood. 

“ As fine a crowd of youngsters as I ever 
met, too,” declared Captain Bunderley. “ They 
said something about getting up a ball nine, 
and wanted us to run over and see ’em. So 
here we are I ” 

“Say, how is Tom Clifton getting on?” 
asked Victor Collins, abruptly. “ Has he 
pulled off any mighty stunts on the diamond 
yet?” 

Phelps exchanged significant glances with 
his companions. 

“ Don’t mention it. We’re trying to forget 
baseball,” he answered, wearily. 

“ What’s the matter? Wouldn’t Bob Somers 
take you on his team ? ” 

Victor Collins’ voice was delicate and re- 
fined ; but there was something in his manner 


The Rambler Club’s 


134 

which impressed the boys with the idea that 
perhaps he wasn’t quite so easy as they had 
supposed. 

I never tried to get on,” grumbled Phelps. 
“ I had better sense.” 

I thought those chaps were all corking 
good players,” said Victor. “ From the way 
Clifton talked last fall you might have ex- 
pected by this time to see accounts of Bob 
Somers’ ball nine in the Chicago papers.” 

Is that what he called it ? ” asked Jim. 

Sure I Why ? ” 

You mustn’t even whisper such a thing 
before ’em now,” snapped Aleck Parks. It’s 
the Kingswood High baseball team. But the 
club is run by the Ramblers, just the same.” 

^‘I fear there are mutterings of discontent 
here,” said Captain Bunderley. He looked 
sharply at the trio. I thought I’d find all 
the boys red hot for Bob Somers and his 
friends. I won’t hear a word against them 
from anybody — understand that. They’re all 
good square fellows with level heads.” 

Captain Bunderley’s bluff style of talking 
effectually squelched Aleck Parks ; and, hav- 
ing learned all he cared to know, the latter 


Ball Nine 


> 3 ^ 

soon found a convenient excuse for leaving 
the party. 

Luke Phelps, though not so easily affected, 
was wise enough to take a hint. 

** Going to stay long in Kingswood, cap^n ? 
he inquired, at length. 

“ That depends. The skipper shrugged 
his broad shoulders. “ My time is my own. 
At any rate I’d like to stay until the Rambler 
Club’s ball nine is carrying everything be- 
fore it.” 

In that case I’m afraid you’ll never get 
away,” murmured Luke, softly. 

After passing through several patches of 
woods, then across broad undulating fields, 
the four came to a wide highway. Captain 
Bunderley’s swinging gait before long carried 
them to the outskirts of Kingswood. Finally 
the high school was passed, and a short time 
later Pembroke Hall, the home of Bob Somers’ 
father, loomed into view. 

Boys, I thank you sincerely,” said the 
burly skipper, as he at length placed his hand 
on the iron gate at the entrance to the grounds. 
“ I hope we shall become better acquainted.” 


CHAPTER XI 


GOOD BASEBALL WEATHER 

Bob Somers was delighted to see Captain 
Bunderley and his nephew. The two visitors 
were entertained at the Somers home on sev- 
eral occasions, and soon became familiar fig- 
ures in Kingswood. 

The captain, putting up at the largest hotel 
in town, often visited the high school and 
athletic field, where his bluff, hearty manner 
gained immediate favor. Of course there 
were exceptions. Crackers ” Brown, Owen 
Lawrence, Aleck Parks and some of their fol- 
lowers didnT seem so favorably impressed. 

“ He^s got too much to say, and I donT like 
the way he says it,^^ growled Parks. “ Makes 
you think of a steam roller flattening every- 
thing before it.^^ 

“ He’s as thick as paste with the Somers 
crowd,” said Owen. 

And when the captain drops in to Terry 
Guffin’s he roars his opinions out so loud 
136 


Ball Nine 


»37 


that my delicate ear-drums rebel,” remarked 
“ Crackers/^ in his usual grave tone. Now, 
to change the subject. As Mr. Barry said to 
Bob Somers and Steele the other night, ‘ There 
ought to be a change mighty soon.’ ” 

“ I guess there’s no doubt about his saying 
it,” grumbled Owen, “ though both of ’em are 
as mum as oysters.” 

** They don’t deny it,” said “ Crackers.” 

If the nine doesn’t take a brace on the 
next game,” observed Aleck Parks, I’ll be- 
gin to believe our athletic field has joined the 
castle in Spain class.” 

There could be no doubt that the school 
was taking an intense interest in the third 
contest with the Stars, scheduled for the fol- 
lowing Saturday. Coach Steele had his men 
out practicing every afternoon, devoting his 
attention to strengthening the weak points. 

Jack Frost ” was developing more confi- 
dence in himself, and Willie Singleton, an- 
other pitcher, whom Steele had not yet used, 
was rapidly acquiring the knack of speeding 
shoots and curves over the plate. 

Charlie Blake and Tom Clifton bother me 
a bit,” confided Coach Steele to Bob Somers. 


138 The Rambler Club’s 

Charlie’s a mighty good player until some- 
thing happens to shake his nerves. Then he’s 
apt to hit the toboggan. And Tom’s a little 
too excitable, especially when it comes to close 
plays. At their best, however, I don’t think 
any of the candidates could beat them.” 

Neither do I, though many of the fellows 
are kicking because Charlie was chosen in- 
stead of Roy croft.” 

We shall have a distinguished audience 
on hand Saturday,” said Steele — “ your friend, 
Captain Bunderley, and ‘Uncle’ Steve, of 
Goose Hill fame, will join the president and 
Professor Ivins on the anxious bench.” 

“ Yes ; they’ll have the bench, and we the 
anxious part,” grinned Bob. “ How about it, 
Dave?” 

“ I’ve got so much work to do on the next 
number of the ‘ Reflector ’ that I haven’t time 
to be anxious,” said Dave. 

“ Guess Benny Wilkins keeps you busy fir- 
ing stuff,” chuckled Tom, sauntering up in 
time to hear his remark. “ Say, Bob, Victor 
Collins has bought a bugle. It’ll help some 
to swell the noise of our rooters.” 

“ I hope the greatest part of the din will 


Ball Nine 


»39 

come right after the ninth inning/^ remarked 
Steele. 

None of the boys looked forward more ea- 
gerly to Saturday afternoon’s contest than Vic- 
tor Collins. Captain Bunderley, too, was 
expectant, and made several emphatic ob- 
servations in the “ Retreat,” which rather 
jolted the susceptible feelings of the Pie- 
eaters.” 

On the day set for the game the weather 
turned out to be balmy and springlike. Dur- 
ing the past few days the color of the land- 
scape had changed surprisingly. The dull, 
yellowish grass had given place to areas of 
cool, refreshing green ; trees here and there 
were beginning to hide their branches under 
myriads of leaves and blossoms. 

No wide-awake boy could have been dis- 
couraged or gloomy on a day like this. The 
players romped through their practice like 
young colts. 

By the time the Stars appeared a happy, 
excited crowd thronged the field. 

Professor Ivins had no desire to see the 
game, but, being a very amiable man, did not 
like to refuse President Hopkins’ request. 


140 


The Rambler Club’s 


Our presence may help to encourage the 
boys/^ said the head of the school. “ What a 
superb day I I have an idea that we shall 
win this time.^^ 

“ If there was only some way by which 
those abominable foul tips could be prevented 
I should feel safer/^ murmured Professor 
Ivins. Ah I Here is Captain Bunderley.’^ 

Very glad to see you, gentlemen I ” ex- 
claimed the skipper. Magnificent day, isn^t 
it? Almost makes me feel like playing ball 
myself.” 

The three men were seated on the bench 
reserved for them when Mr. Rupert Barry ap- 
peared, with a little man trotting at his side. 

Captain Bunderley was thereupon intro- 
duced to the millionaire and Uncle ” Steve. 

Very glad to meet you, I’m sure,” said 
Mr. Kimbole, rubbing his hands nervously 
together. “ Grand baseball weather, isn’t it ? ” 

‘‘ Superb 1 ” said Professor Hopkins. 

Magnificent,” added the captain. 

Unexceptionable I ” chimed in Professor 
Ivins. 

Now that the status of the weather has 
been decided,” remarked Mr. Barry, dryly, 


Ball Nine 


141 


“ we can compose ourselves to witness — a — 
well, I hope, a better game than it was our 
misfortune to see on the last occasion/^ 

The high school crowd seemed to be in a 
state of unusual tension when the game be- 
gan, and, as it progressed from inning to in- 
ning, they relieved their pent-up feelings by 
uproarious yells. Victor Collins’ newl^^-pur- 
chased bugle ably assisted in producing noise. 

Tony Tippen, as before, was the stumbling- 
block in the path of success. No matter how 
desperately the batters tried to land on his 
varied assortment of curves the result was the 
same. At the end of the fifth inning the score 
stood three to nothing in favor of the Stars. 

‘‘ Great Scott, Bob, this is awful,” mur- 
mured Tom Clifton, wiping his perspiring 
face, as they flocked out into the field. “ The 
jinx certainly has us again. Honest, Bob, 
Tony sent in a slow ball that I thought, sure 
as shootin’, I could knock a mile, and it 
didn’t reach me until after I’d swung the 
stick.” 

A fraction of a second counts,” said Bob. 
“ Don’t get worried, Tom.” 

Oh, I guess I’m no more worried than any- 


142 


The Rambler Club’s 

body else/^ grumbled Tom. ‘^Just listen to 
Nat Wingate and Hackett bawling I The way 
those ‘ Pie-eaters ^ try to crow over our crowd 
certainly makes me weary.” 

Batter up I ” called the umpire. 

Enter Willie Singleton ; exit ‘Jack Frost/ ” 
said Bob, his eyes on the new pitcher stepping 
into the box. “ Hope to thunder he can keep 
down the hits.” 

Singleton, a businesslike lad whom nothing 
seemed to rattle, put all his energy and skill 
into the task. 

Tony Tippen, however, found him for a 
two-base hit ; Nat singled, and both made the 
circuit of the bases before the third out was 
recorded. 

“ The same old — old story,” remarked 
“ Crackers,” disgustedly. 

“ A serial story,” supplemented Benny 
Wilkins. “To be continued in our next, I 
s'pose ? ” 

“ YouTe a nice pair I ” exclaimed Dick 
Travers, secretary of the athletic association. 
“ HavenT the boys put up a mighty good de- 
fensive fight? ” 

“ Of course I ” broke in Harry Spearman. 


Ball Nine 


H3 


“ If it hadn’t been for good fielding and some 
mighty fast throws to bases the score would 
now be about ten to nothing.” 

It’s only delayed ; it’s only delayed,” said 
** Crackers.” “You don’t need a spy-glass to 
see how Mr. Barry is looking.” 

“ Gee ! What’s up to make you chaps look 
so sour ? ” 

Victor Collins had appeared upon the scene. 

“ Everything, Checkered-Cap,” answered 
Aleck Parks. “Tell your uncle to be at 
Guffin’s to-night. We’d like to hear his 
opinion of the game.” 

“ Strikes me that you’re kind of fresh,” re- 
sponded Victor, calmly. “ But I’ve noticed 
that you’re mighty quiet when the captain’s 
around.” 

“ Here, Checkered-Cap, don’t throw any 
saucy remarks in this direction,” warned 
Aleck, bristling up. 

“ I chuck ’em out whenever I please, and 
whoever gets in the way catches ’em.” 

At the same moment Owen Lawrence was 
saying : 

“ A mighty poor game, Roycroft. They’re 
just as weak as ever on the stick work.” 


144 


The Rambler Club’s 

“ I think it’s partly because Tippen’s in a 
class by himself,” said Earl. 

‘‘ All the same, I’ll bet if you had a chance 
at bat you’d rip the stitches out of that 
ball.” 

“ Oh, I don’t know. I’d like to try it, 
though.” 

If you’d only put up a stiff kick in the 
gym that day you might be doing it now,” 
exclaimed Luke Phelps. 

Maybe,” admitted the big football guard. 

1 call this a mighty good game, Owen 
Lawrence,” piped Victor Collins. ‘‘ What’s 
the dif if your side is losing? ” 

Only a big field with a diamond all laid 
out, and a grand stand besides,” sniffed Law- 
rence. 

'' Get out I This is only the fifth game. 
Aren’t there about ten more ? ” 

To lose — most likely,” growled Parks. 

** I reckon it’ll do Clifton a lot of good. He 
used to be a regular caution. I was going to 
nickname him ^ Vanitas ’ a dozen times.” 

Just suited to him, too. Checkers,” said 
Aleck Parks. You’ve got a wee bit of sense, 
after all.” 


Bali Nine 


H5 

Thanks I I canT return the compliment 
until I know you a bit better.” 

Some awful fresh remarks are being let 
loose,” exclaimed Ted Pollock. “ ^ Vanitas ^ I 
That seems to hit Tom^s case about right. 
What inning is this — the eighth ? ” 

Yes I And iPs another case of whitewash,” 
grumbled Parks. There^s our grand editor 
of the ' Reflector ’ at bat. Watch him. He’s 

going to swing. Ah ” 

Strike one I ” came over the air. 

Harry Spearman dug his heel viciously into 
the yielding turf. The sarcastic looks on the 
faces of Crackers ” Brown and Owen Law- 
rence stung his sensitive nature. 

“ Come on, Dick,” he said, in a low tone. 

I want to speak to Bob a moment.” 

They found the captain and Coach Steele 
coming away from the bench on which Mr. 
Rupert Barry and the others were seated. 

Steele shook his head and laughed dryly. 

‘‘ Things are not breaking just the way we 
hoped, Harry,” he said. “ If we could only 
put a man on base once in a while I’ll wager 
they’d manage to get around some way or 
other.” 


146 The Rambler Club’s 

What does Mr. Barry think about it ? 

He can^t figure how it is that the boys 
aren^t able to crack out a few base hits.” 

The fellows who face Tony Tippen under- 
stand it,” said Bob. “ Side out — back to the 
field for us I ” 

The gentlemen on the grand stand,” as 
Victor Collins had dubbed the bench, rose to 
their feet a short time later, when yells, hoots, 
cat-calls and furious blasts from dozens of 
megaphones announced that something had 
happened. 

That something was Big Bill Steever dash- 
ing frantically across home plate, a feat which 
required the official scorer to jot down the 
seventh tally for the Stars. 

The high school team made a desperate 
attempt to change the monotonous list of 
ciphers which filled their run column. 

Tippen, however, held them safe. 

“ Seven to nothing,” growled Mr. Rupert 
Barry. 

It has been a great game,” chirped 

Uncle ” Steve. Considering everything, 1 
think the schoolboys put up a pretty good 
fight.” 


Ball Nine 


H7 

“ So do I/^ exclaimed Captain Bunderley, 
in his deep bass voice. 

Our ideas differ, sir,'' said Mr. Barry, grip- 
ping his knotted cane as though he intended to 
knock some one on the head. I'm disgusted 
— so completely disgusted that I hardly know 
how to find words to express my feelings." 

Don't try, sir ; don't try I " advised Mr. 
Kimbole, smiling benignly. What a grand 
sport baseball is ! I trust, sir " — he turned 
toward Professor Ivins — that you have en- 
joyed the afternoon as much as I." 

Ahem — ahem I " The professor polished 
him eye-glasses industriously. “To be sure. 
After one has been cooped up indoors all 
week this sunshine is really delightful," he 
admitted. 

“ No matter who may be discouraged by the 
showing of the school, I am not," declared 
Captain Bunderley, emphatically. 

“ I believe, if we could get the consensus 
of opinion, you'd have few supporters," 
snapped Mr. Rupert Barry. “Five straight 
defeats seem to forecast a dismal failure." 


CHAPTER XII 


FOR THE GOOD OF THE SCHOOL 

A FEW days later, Bob Somers, hard at work 
studying in his ‘‘ den,'^ was summoned down- 
stairs to the 'phone. 

Now I wonder what's up ? " he murmured, 
somewhat impatiently. Haven't much time 
to prepare for the next exercise in logarithms." 

As soon as he placed the receiver to his ear 
the gruff voice of Tom Clifton began coming 
over the wire. And there was a note of pent- 
up excitement in it which instantly caught 
the captain's attention. 

I say, Bob, what do you think ? Do you 
know what ‘ Crackers ' Brown has done ? 
Never heard of such nerve in my life." 

“ Tell me quick ! " laughed Bob. 

“ He's posted up a big notice on the gym- 
nasium door calling for candidates for another 
team. How does that strike you? " 

“ I suppose there is nothing to prevent him, 
Tom." 


148 


Ball Nine 


149 


You haven^t heard all. The notice says 
that as the regular nine has been tried and 
found wanting the interests of the school de- 
mand that his players be given an equal show 
with the others.^^ 

I had an idea something like this was 
coming. Who told you ? ” 

Benny Wilkins. Had the thing copied 
word for word in his note-book. May be a 
joke, you say ? No ; nothing of the sort 1 It’s 
an actual fact. Gee ! Maybe I don’t feel mad 
enough to punch ‘ Crackers ’ Brown ! ” 

Bob Somers’ face remained unruffled. 

I don’t think we want to indulge in any 
real warfare, Tom,” he sent through the trans- 
mitter. “ ‘ Crackers’ ’ plan may fizzle out. 
Besides, I think we can count upon having 
the majority of the fellows on our side.” 

But Benny Wilkins says a whole lot are 
beginning to waver. He thinks there’ll be a 
sizzling hot time before many weeks. Aleck 
Parks and Owen Lawrence are buttonholing 
every fellow in sight, telling ’em how the 
grounds’ll be lost unless Bob listens to reason.” 
What does ‘ Crackers ’ want us to do ? ” 
Put Roy croft, Lawrence and a few others 


150 


The Rambler Club’s 


on the team, and discharge Charlie Blake, Alf 
Boggs, and — and ” — the tone of Tom^s voice 
seemed hot enough to scorch the wire — “ my- 
self. Honest fact. Bob — I don’t know whether 
I can keep from punching him or not. What 
are you going to do about it? ” 

No Central American disturbance at the 
Kingswood High,” said Bob, dryly. What 
am I going to do ? Get right back up-stairs 
and finish my work.” 

“ But we can’t let a thing like this go one 
Show the first sign of weakening. Bob, and 
the wavering’ll become a stampede most as 
bad as any of the cattle rushes on the plains.” 

We don’t propose to show any signs of 
weakening. It’s up to the coach to do what 
he thinks best. I’ll stick by what he says.” 

Oh, I can see you’re taking it pretty cool. 
Bob. But I was never hotter in my life. 
Aleck Parks had the nerve to call me ‘ Vani- 
tas ’ to-day. Wonder where he got that from? 
I’m ready to put up the stiifest kind of fight 
for the club.” 

“So are we all, Tom,” exclaimed Bob. 
“ Going around to tell Dave, are you ? Good I 
Have to get to work now. So-long I ” 


Ball Nine 


151 

The captain snapped the receiver back in 
place. 

Well, that's going some," he soliloquized. 

A nice little scheme of ‘ Crackers ' Brown 
to carry his point. But if he thinks he can 
force the issue in this way he may be a trifle 
surprised." 

The bold move of Brown made a decided 
sensation. The big poster was eagerly read^ 
by all factions. Hot arguments waxed to 
such extremes that bosom friends soon passed 
each other without speaking. Some of the 
freshmen seemed on the point of backing up 
their opinions with fistic arguments. The 
original feeling that the Ramblers had too 
much power broke out afresh ; and through 
all the noise, excitement and confusion Brown 
went serenely along, doing far more execution 
with his calm methods than any loud, bois- 
terous talking could have accomplished. 

For the good of the school," was his 
slogan. 

Purple and white pennants with this motto 
began to appear. The opposition to the 
Ramblers, though still in the minority, was 
undoubtedly gaining strength. Cries for 


152 


The Rambler Club’s 


Roycroft I Lawrence I and several other 
candidates who had failed to pass Coach 
Steele’s critical tests frequently rose on the 
campus. 

Brown’s call for volunteers met with a 
hearty response, and the self-appointed coach, 
determining that no time should be lost in 
putting his plans into execution, had his 
squad out within a couple of days. Brown’s 
preference was evidently for big, husky chaps. 

“ Sometimes the size of a fellow has an 
effect on the opposing team,” he said to Owen 
Lawrence. A hundred and seventy-five 
pounds of bone and muscle tearing along the 
base lines often does more good than the skill 
of a hundred and thirty pound stripling. 

“ Then, chaps like that have bigger hands 
to grab the ball ; and when they crack out a 
hit it has some steam behind it. 

And, honestly, whenever I see Blake 
making a dash for a hot liner it puts me in 
mind of an item like this : ' Baseball player 
seriously injured by a bounder.’ ” 

Ha, ha I ” laughed Lawrence. The idea 
of Steele putting him on instead of Roycroft I” 

“ Now the big fellow will have all the 


Ball Nine 


»53 


chance he wants/^ exclaimed Brown, decid- 
edly. “ 1^11 stimulate his bump of ambition 
by making him captain of the nine.^^ 

Capital idea ! I suppose the Somers crowd 
will entrench themselves behind the regular- 
ity racket. That set of iron-clad by-laws 
Tom Clifton got up doesn't recognize any 
little outlaw scheme like ours." 

Red tape versus common sense. I take 
it that the school has some say in things of 
this sort. If Steele will agree to take on the 
players we suggest — all right ; if not " — 

Crackers " spoke as mildly as though order- 
ing a plate of pie — ‘‘ the worst insurrection in 
the history of the school is about to begin." 

The fellows’ll soon be coming over to our 
side so fast that it will make you think of an 
avalanche in the Alps," predicted Owen. 

What’s that ? " He put his hand to his ear. 
Faint cries of Rah, rah, rah for Somers I " 
were coming over the still air from somewhere 
in the distance. That kind of thing only 
makes it more interesting," added the new 
student, with a grin. 

“ Let’s get over on the field. There’s a big 
bunch ready for practice," said Brown. 


154 


The Rambler Club’s 

Every member of the regular club was 
present when the Outlaws/^ as Benny Wil- 
kins had dubbed the new set of players, got 
to work. 

Tom Clifton surveyed the proceedings with 
a heavy scowl, treating with silent scorn, for 
the most part, the jibes which were occasion- 
ally flung toward him by members of the op- 
position. 

“ Honest, Bob, it makes me almost boil 
over,’^ he confessed. ** Listen to that butter- 
milk voice of Brownes ! He turned, as a 
hand was laid on his shoulder. Oh 1 How 
are you, Steele I What do you think of this ? 

Tm sorry there’s disaffection in the school,” 
answered the coach ; otherwise I’m prepared 
to enjoy the afternoon.” 

Things on the lot were not as they had 
been when the other players alone occupied it. 
Sounds of heated arguments often rose above 
the hum of voices. 

Fortunately there was enough room for the 
two clubs to practice without interference, and 
the regulars and outlaws ” seldom came 
within speaking distance. 

On this occasion Coach Brown and his 


Ball Nine 


15 ? 

men proved to be the great attraction. A 
steady stream of schoolboys ebbed and flowed 
on the lot, eagerly watching every move of 
the candidates. 

Now wefll see some ball tossing that is 
ball tossing I cried Aleck Parks. 

“ This does me good,^^ said Luke Phelps. 

There’s Earl Roycroft over there. Looks 
big enough for a hold-out major league player, 
eh ? No fanning the air for Earl.” 

“Who do the Willie-boys play next?” 
asked Parks. 

“ Oh, some club from Engleton. Don’t 
know much about ’em ; but Mercer says they 
are players, though the Stars waltzed over 
one day, and, even without Tippen in the box, 
put ’em in wrong to the tune of seven to 
three.” 

“Then Nat’s team hasn’t lost a game yet. 
Here, Checkered-Cap, you don’t belong on 
this fleld. Skip out I ” 

“ Oh, you saucy thing ! Who’s going to 
make me?” asked Victor Collins. 

“ I will — if your line of talk doesn’t suit,” 
threatened Aleck. 

“ Then you’ll have to grow some. Gee ! 


156 The Rambler Club’s 


There’s been an awful lot of near-scraps to- 
day. In about a week I guess you’ll be 
fighting all over the field. Rah, rah, rah 
for Somers I How does that strike you, Sour- 
face? If it isn’t strong enough I’ll blow a 
bugle call.” 

An irritatingly long blast immediately 
sounded. 

Ta, ta I I go ! * Crackers ’ has a butter- 

milk voice. Got that from Clifton. Ta, ta I” 

He’s a nice specimen for you,” growled 
Parks, as Victor’s small form mingled with 
the crowd. “ Wow — look at that hit I Who 
cracked out that one ? ” 

“ Bush. And he’s a likely one for pitcher. 
If anything, he’s stronger than Roy croft.” 

As the afternoon progressed the shouts con- 
stantly swelled out into a greater volume. 
Little processions of Somers adherents moved 
recklessly through the enemy’s camp, yelling 
lustily for their favorites. 

If we only win from Engleton,” remarked 
Sam Randall, as they gathered in the gym on 
the day of the game, ** it may stop some of 
that foolish fussing.” 

“ Whatever happens I suppose I’ll get 


Ball Nine 


157 

another eight-column article from Benny 
Wilkins/^ sighed the editor of the “ Re- 
flector/' ** Still, I've adopted one of his sug- 
gestions. The 'Note-Book' page will here- 
after be a feature of the paper." 

" Goodness gracious ! " murmured Tom. 
" Now maybe he won’t do some strutting 
around." 

" Say, Bob," put in Charlie Blake, " I've 
been thinking pretty hard over matters — 
can't help hearing a lot of things the fellows 
say, you know " — he glanced toward Roger 
Steele — " and this affair has been getting on 
my nerves. Now, I'm willing to step out 
for Roycroft, Lawrence, or anybody else 
who " 

"What I And be labeled a quitter?" 
howled Tom. " I didn’t expect it of you, 
Charlie — not this time." 

The emphasis laid on the last words brought 
a flush to Blake’s face. 

"If there weren't so much at stake maybe 
I shouldn’t be talking of such a thing," he 
retorted. " But when a chap has it dinned 
into his ears every day that he isn't doing the 
right thing by the school, why " 


158 The Rambler Club’s 

Oh, you make me tired I scoffed Tom. 

Who wants you to get off the team ? No 
one but a lot of soreheads.^^ 

Blake gloomily picked his favorite bat from 
the rack. 

‘‘ I donT know, Tom,'^ he sighed. “ Some 
of the boys who used to be pretty good 
shouters for our crowd have flopped over to 
the other side.” 

“ A lot of weaklings I ” jeered Tom. 

‘‘ Just go about your work as though noth- 
ing had happened,” advised Steele. Now’s 
the time to show what you’re made of. I 
know a good player when I see one. Don’t 
let this noisy Brown crowd get your nerve — 
that’s all.” 

Charlie Blake cast a grateful look at the 
coach. 

I’m glad to hear you speak that way,” he 
said. But — but — somehow ” 

Steele slapped him heartily on the shoulder. 

A little self-consciousness, Blake, is your 
only trouble,” he interrupted. “ Get in the 
way of paying no attention to any one. And 
if you do happen to make an error just re- 
member that the highest salaried player in 


Ball Nine 


159 

the big leagues is occasionally bound to do 
the same.” 

‘‘ The chap who doesnT take things too seri- 
ously is generally the one who gets there,” said 
Dave. “ It’s the easiest way to prevent your 
nerves from getting all in a tension.” 

^‘By George, that’s right I ” cried Charlie. 

I knew you’d come around to our way of 
thinking,” said Tom, delightedly. 

The squad felt that a great deal depended 
upon the outcome of the game with Engleton. 
And each member was chuck full of courage 
and determination as he sallied out upon the 
field. 

They found the Engleton lads rather older 
and heavier than themselves. One of the 
principal characteristics of their coach, a 
boisterous young man named Finn, was the 
habit of making humorous remarks, and, as 
his voice was of a caliber suitable for an auc- 
tioneer, his jokes sent ripples of mirth all 
over the field. 

The game, as summed up tersely by Alf 
Boggs, was : 

A nothing to three fizzle, with the high 
school holding the doughnut.” 


i6o The Rambler Club’s 


His disconsolate audience was gathered 
before the fence near home plate, their sad 
eyes showing no signs of brightening. Even 
several exceptionally humorous remarks by 
Mr. Finn passed unnoticed. 

Suddenly they became aware of the fact 
that something not down on the bill was 
taking place. Dan Brown, Owen Lawrence 
and Earl Roycroft, followed by all the out- 
law candidates, were winding in a serpentine 
fashion — this movement being occasioned by 
the constantly shifting crowds — toward home 
plate. 

Mr. Finn,’’ began Crackers,” ‘‘ I’d like to 
have a word with you.” 

“ Nobody who ever did got stung,” said the 
coach, pleasantly. 

<< We ” — Crackers ” waved his arm to in- 
clude the grinning group behind him — “ wish 
to ask a small favor.” 

It can’t be too small to suit me,” laughed 
Mr. Finn. 

'' I am forming a baseball nine ” 

What I Is there a baseball nine at this 
school?” cried the coach, in well-feigned as- 
tonishment. 


Ball Nine 


i6i 

We wish to state most emphatically that 
there is — just one ; no more” returned “ Crack- 
ers/’ “ and our great desire is to prove it.” 

The members of the Engleton team crowded 
around. 

“ How are you going to do it, Jack ? ” asked 
one, familiarly. 

‘‘ Well, Bill, it’s this way.” Brown beamed 
benignly over the steel frame of his spectacles. 
“ If you have any open dates for next week, 
and are willing to play us, the thing is as 
good as done.” 

“ How about it, Finn ? ” asked the captain 
of the Engletons. 

The eyes of the visiting coach roamed over 
the forms of the ** outlaws.” 

Suits me all right, Beebe,” he answered. 

We can’t thank you too much, Mr. Finn,” 
said Crackers,” mildly. “ Here’s a chap ” — 
his hand indicated Roycroft — who is war- 
ranted to bat anything hittable over the out- 
fielders’ heads. We have some birds in this 
bunch. Bush, our pitcher, requires only nine 
balls to put out a side ; he nearly always does 
it. We’ve an infield that a ball wouldn’t go 
by if it had a chance. Baseball as we play it 


i 62 The Rambler Club’ 


can only be seen at the big league games. I 
shall ask our esteemed friend, Mr. Bill, to re- 
member what I say.’’ 

What’s the name of your nine ? ” asked 
Mr. Bill.” 

'' The High School ‘ Hopes.’ ” 

** We’ll promise to dash ’em,” grinned the 
other. 

Commiseration for your feelings after the 
game prevents me from making a tart reply,” 
said Brown. “ What day shall we come 
over ? ” 

Finn consulted a memorandum book. 

‘‘Next Thursday. Our lot is close to the 
largest ash heap in the county. I may add, 
too, that some of the fiercest goats at liberty 
often chase players off the bases. Bring all 
your nerve along. You’ll need it.” 

“ Good ! ” cried “ Crackers,” in high spirits. 
“ Why are we doing this, fellows ? ” 

“ For the good of the school I ” bawled 
Lawrence. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE CHALLENGE 

“ A LARGE slice of history made for the 
Kingswood High/^ 

This is the entry Benny Wilkins jotted * 
down in his note-book at the close of the 

Hopes^ ” game with Engleton. Four boys 
had actually seen him writing it, and perhaps 
a hundred others had had it flaunted in their 
faces. 

The score, flve to three in favor of the 
“ Hopes,^^ sent through the ranks of Brownes 
followers a wave of enthusiasm that found 
vent in the noisiest demonstration the quiet 
town of Engleton had ever known. 

Critical observers of the High^s new team 
noted that the Are and dash with which the 
big lads played seemed to impress their oppo- 
nents greatly. 

‘‘ Brownes bunch is the most unruly lot in 
the school,’^ growled Tom Clifton, who had 
163 


164 The Rambler Club’s 

ardently wished to see the Hopes sustain 
a crushing defeat. “ There wonT be any dis- 
cipline on that team very long.'^ 

They played a mighty good game, though,’^ 
ventured Charlie Blake. 

Tom steered his companion out of the way 
of a procession of joyous rooters, led by Aleck 
Parks and Luke Phelps. 

How about the ‘ Pie-eaters and doughnut 
crowd ^ now ? ” yelled Parks, waving his cap 
in the air. 

If you want to win games go to Guffin’s I 
screeched Luke. Ha, ha I Five to three I 
Don’t look so down in the mouth, * Vanitas ’ 1” 
‘‘ If it wasn’t for this big crowd I’d punch 
him right now I ” cried Tom. 

I’m afraid the effects of Brown’s victory 
will be rather bad,” mused Charlie Blake. 
He paused to watch the throngs hurrying for 
the Kingswood car. ‘‘ I wonder if Steele and 
Bob Somers haven’t been a bit stubborn.” 

Of course not,” returned Tom. Do you 
know what I heard this morning ? Some of 
the fellows Brown left off his team are put- 
ting up a kick already.” 

Dear me ! Then, I suppose, before long 


Ball Nine 


165 

therein be a half dozen nines, all playing for 
the good of the school/^ 

Next day, in the gymnasium, Benny Wilkins 
had an opportunity to write several very in- 
teresting items in his famous note-book. Im- 
mediately after classes were over the regular 
nine assembled in the big room as though 
nothing had happened. They had hardly 
donned their uniforms, preparatory to prac- 
ticing, when the door opened, and Dan Brown, 
heading his entire aggregation of players, 
stepped inside. 

An eager crowd of freshmen, juniors, 
sophomores and seniors flocked at their heels, 
their faces showing a degree of expectancy 
which indicated that something was up. 

“ Mr. Steele,’^ began Crackers,^' in deliber- 
ate tones, “ the event of yesterday must still 
be fresh in your mind. You saw us play the 
Engletons, I believe ? ” 

The coach nodded. 

“ Crackers calmly paused to wipe his 
glasses. 

“ Before I go any further I want it under- 
stood that we’re not wishing to make any 
trouble in the school.’’ 


i66 


The Rambler Club’s 


Like fun you're not I " burst out Tom 
Clifton. ‘‘ From the very first " 

Quit it, Tom I " commanded Dave Bran- 
don. Let's hear what Brown has to say." 

‘‘ Put a doughnut in his mouth ! " cried 
Benny Wilkins. 

Stop your noise, fellows," insisted Brown. 

We came here on serious business. Mr. 
Steele, the school has been patient ; it has 
given you every chance to make good. What 
has been the result? Six straight defeats, and 
a mysterious hurry call from Mr. Barry. We 
all know how dissatisfied he is." 

He talks like a senator," snickered Victor 
Collins. Most of 'em never reach the 
point." 

‘‘Be patient, my young friend in the check- 
ered cap," went on Brown. “ Mr. Steele, the 
school couldn't stand by and see a grand chance 
for getting a ball field and stand slip away." 

“And it doesn't propose to!" cried Owen 
Lawrence. 

“ We have a proposition — a fair proposition : 
play us a series of games, and let whichever 
club wins represent the school. This is no 
time for stubbornness. Personal ambition has 


Ball Nine 


167 

no place at such an important epoch in the 
history of the Kingswood High.” 

As the leader of the ^‘outlaws” paused a 
lively rattle of tongues began. Excited stu- 
dents cheered, or voiced their protests until 
the room echoed with a noisy din. 

“ Don't do it, Steele ; don't do it I '' cried one. 

The whole bunch ought to be thrown out 
of the school ! '' shouted a second. 

“ You're away off. Brown's the best friend 
the Kingswood High ever had I '' exclaimed 
another, hotly. 

Crackers '' looked at the excited groups 
about him with as much unconcern as though 
reciting in the class room. 

Order — order I '' yelled Lawrence. What 
do you say, Steele ? '' 

The coach was visibly annoyed — even angry. 
He shot a swift, questioning glance at Bob 
Somers, then turned to face Dan Brown. 

Your request should have been made in 
proper form to the athletic association. 
Brown,” he said, coolly. ‘‘ If you choose, 
you can carry the matter to them. Person- 
ally, I must emphatically decline to comply 
with your wishes. What do you say. 


i68 The Rambler Club’s 

fellows ? He addressed the members of the 
nine. 

A unanimous “ No ! cut crisply above the 
buzz of conversation. 

‘‘ I thought so I exclaimed Owen Lawrence, 
fiercely. “ Afraid, eh ? Have to crawl ? We 
want the whole school to know it.^^ 

‘‘ Not so fast, Lawrence,^' protested Brown. 
‘‘ Lm sure Mr. Steele is open to reason. 
What'S the use of all this red tape about 
athletic associations? Rules may be all right 
in their way; but there are times when they 
had better be thrown on the scrap heap.^^ 

Our policy is not determined by rules or 
red tape. Brown. 

What reason can you give for not playing 

Now you’ve got him I ” came in a loud 
tone from Lawrence. 

We’re working on a definite plan,” ex- 
plained Roger Steele, in a conciliatory manner. 
“ Every one of us has the interest of the school 
at heart ; and if there are no internal dissen- 
sions the task will be easy. Our team is go- 
ing to do much better than you think ; it’s 
going to improve steadily.” 


Ball Nine 


169 

“ An answer that is no answer/’ remarked 
Brown. “ Yoa’ll be saying the same thing 
after the tenth consecutive defeat.” 

We can’t be jollied,” added Lawrence. 

Come now, Mr. Steele, why not play the 
‘ Hopes ’ ? ” said Earl Roycroft, mildly. I 
don’t think there ought to be any row or ill- 
feeling. Two or three games couldn’t do any 
harm, and ” 

‘‘ I should like to oblige you, Roycroft, but 
I can’t encourage the idea.” 

“ Well, I should rather say not I ” howled 
Tom, whose pent-up wrath had once more 
gotten the better of him. I never heard of 
such nerve in my life. Get out, ‘ Crackers ’ ! 
Go back to Terry Guffin’s and hatch up some 
new plot I ” 

“ ^ Vanitas ’ heard from again I ” sneered 
Aleck Parks. 

Don’t get too gay. Parks,” warned Tom. 

I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if you’re the 
chap who made that mean remark about the 
corn field.” 

‘‘ No such thing,” answered Aleck, tartly. 

“ Cut out all quarreling on the side lines, 
boys,” interposed Brown. Now, Mr. Steele, 


The Rambler Club’s 


170 

I’ll answer the question I asked you. 
Frankly, brutally, and to the point : you 
won’t play us because you and every member 
of the nine is afraid. I dare you to come out 
on the field and cross bats with us this after- 
noon. If you don’t, what will the school 
think?” He raised his voice. ‘‘The boys 
have no use for a team with a yellow streak.” 

“ Brown, you’re going a little too far,” in- 
terposed Bob Somers. “ Talk like that won’t 
make us budge. If you really are for the 
good of the school you’ll stop all this rumpus.” 

“ Really are for the good of the school ! ” 
echoed “ Crackers.” His mild tone suddenly 
departed. “ Do you mean to insinuate, Bob 
Somers, that I’m doing this just for the sake 
of a row ? ” 

“ I didn’t insinuate anything.” 

“ Well, you’d better not.” “ Crackers ” 
turned to face his “ outlaws.” “ Fellows, our 
perfectly reasonable proposition has been 
turned down. It’s up to us to break the red 
tape into a thousand pieces. Mr. Steele ” — 
his voice resumed its former mildness — “ I 
shall put my request in writing and send it 
to the athletic association.” 


Ball Nine 


7» 


The room was in an uproar. The Somers 
party attempted, by sheer force of noise, to 
drown the angry remarks of Brown’s dis- 
appointed followers. Benny Wilkins was 
thoroughly charmed. He noted, too, with 
satisfaction, that the outlaws ” seemed to be 
in no hurry to leave. 

As the commotion was at its highest the 
door suddenly flew wide open, and the form 
of a big, burly man was sharply outlined 
against the bright outdoor light. 

He listened a moment in seeming astonish- 
ment, then strode heavily across the floor, 
making for the point of loudest noise. 

What does all this mean, boys? ” bellowed 
Captain Ralph Bunderley. Do you want to 
take the roof off, or crack the window-panes ? 
I’ve been looking for my nephew, Victor 
Collins ; and I’ve found him, and something 
else I didn’t bargain for.” 

The unexpected appearance of the burly 
seaman in their midst had the effect of quell- 
ing all but the most turbulent spirits. 

I’d like to know what’s going on ! ” 

“Uncle, let me introduce you to the biggest 
bunch of fire-eaters in Wisconsin,” called 


The Rambler Club’s 


172 

Victor. “ It’s a revolution — that’s what it is, 
isn’t it, Brownie ? ” 

From a dozen points in the room came the 
explanation that Captain Bunderley was seek- 
ing. 

The skipper was astonished and angry. I 
should think you boys would have better 
sense than to act this way,” he stormed. 
“ What do you expect to gain by such con- 
duct ? ” 

** A ball field and grand stand,” answered 
Brown. 

“ All ridiculous nonsense 1 ” The captain 
struck the palm of his hand an emphatic 
blow. ‘‘ The boys have done right to refuse 
to play such an organization.” 

Have you recently entered the High as a 
student ? ” asked Brown. 

A fierce glare sprang into the captain’s 
eyes. 

would suggest, sir,” continued Brown, 
smoothly, ** that the students are not asking 
advice from outsiders.” 

'' I beg pardon,” said the captain, but I 
thought a little friendly counsel might not 
come amiss.” 


Ball Nine 


>73 


‘‘ It^s the way you offer your suggestions 
that hurts our feelings/’ said Brown, quite 
candidly. “ Really, I expected to find my- 
self flying through space.” 

‘ Crackers ’ felt as if he’d been banged on 
the head,” added Benny Wilkins. Who’s 
got a note-book ? My new one’s full already.” 

** My esteemed young friend,” said Crack- 
ers,” turning toward him, I saw a bargain 
sale on Central Avenue. Let me advise you 
to get a dozen at once. Even then, I fear, it 
won’t be enough to hold an account of what 
our team — the ‘ Hopes ’ — are going to do.” 


CHAPTER XIV 

KEBELLION 

“You can put your request in writing, 
Brown ; but, honestly, 1 don’t think it will 
do a bit of good/^ 

Sam Randall, president of the athletic 
association and member of the Rambler 
Club, seated at his desk in a room which ad- 
joined the gymnasium, gazed squarely into 
his visitor’s face. 

It was late on the same afternoon, for Brown 
had determined to force the issue at once. 

Within the last year Sam Randall had grown 
to be quite a young man in appearance. All 
the lines about his clean cut face tending to 
firmness had beconf<> accentuated, and he had 
a quiet, decisive i3ianner which even had its 
effect on the imperturbable Brown. 

“I’m to understand, then, that my challenge 
has been thrown down flat? ” 

Sam Randall toyed with a paper-weight on 
his desk. 


174 


Ball Nine 


175 


“No, I can’t say that, Brown. I’m only 
one of the officers of the association. The 
others must speak for themselves.^^ 

But you, as president, ought to have a 
great deal of influence,’^ suggested Crackers,’^ 
slowly pacing the floor. '' I tell you plainly, 
the fellows are getting worked up ; they woiTt 
stand for any dictatorial methods. ArenT 
you going to use your influence to prevent the 
explosion that one more defeat would cer- 
tainly bring? It might blow nearly every 
member of the organization out of his job.^^ 

** Ah I ” said Sam. 

His keen eyes showed no sign of wavering. 

“ You know how to take a hot proposition 
very coolly,’’ said ‘‘ Crackers,” in soft tones. 
** Is there any use of arguing the matter ? ” 

I don’t think so.” 

Neither do I. But, to make sure. I’ll hunt 
up the rest of the officei j, and see what they 
think about having the m^tch shoved so close 
to the gunpowder.” 

Remember this,” retorted Randall : ‘‘Some 
one has just said that the fellows won’t stand 
for any dictatorial methods. You must in- 
clude yourself as well as the rest. So-long.” 


176 The Rambler Club’s 

Crackers immediately reported to his 
lieutenants outside the gymnasium. 

Well?” queried Lawrence, eagerly. 

“ He won’t listen to reason,” said Brown, 
shaking his head gravely. His abruptness 
almost pained me.” 

‘‘ Why not call all this thing off? ” asked 
Earl Roycroft, with a disturbed expression. 

Suppose we give ’em another week ? ” 

Owen Lawrence eyed him scornfully. 

“ That’s a fine way to talk,” he growled. 
“ If you’re going to back down at the very 
start we’d better know it now.” 

The big captain of the “ Hopes ” flushed. 

“ Of course I’m not,” he answered, hastily. 
“ All I want is to see everybody get a square 
deal.” 

That stout gentleman who poked his deli- 
cate frame into the gym this afternoon about 
typifies the actions of the Ramblers,” remarked 
Brown. “ He has an idea that every one 
must bend to his will. So do they. Why, in 
that room back there, I began to think I was 
talking to the head of some big corporation 
doing business in a dozen states.” 

“ There’s no use chirping all day. Let’s 


Ball Nine 


177 

get busy/^ broke in Lawrence, impatiently. 
“ What’s the first move, Brown ? ” 

“ A poster announcing our intentions would 
be about the proper caper,” answered Brown, 
reflectively. I’ll consult my special artist, 
Mr. Benny Wilkins.” 

What ! Can he draw ? ” 

He may not have Dave Brandon’s a-ma- 
zing talent, but, at any rate, his sketches don’t 
need explanations to go with ’em. I’ll jolly 
him into making one — that is, unless the other 
High Moguls of the association overrule the 
iron hand back there.” 

Before supper time Dan Brown had managed 
to interview Harry Spearman, Dick Travers 
and the others. 

As Sam Randall had predicted, he got no 
encouragement. 

That settles it,” murmured Crack- 
ers.” “ The next thing is to see Benny Wil- 
kins.” 

Benny was decidedly surprised when the 
coach of the Hopes ” called upon him that 
evening. He was also much pleased. 

“ Gee whiz. Brown, this is going to boost 
me into a person of national importance. Of 


178 The Rambler Club’s 

course I can make the poster ; I can draw even 
with my eyes shut.'^ 

‘‘ And color, too? ” asked Brown. 

Sure ; coloring is easy for me. I know 
all about it. Here, pull up a chair, Mr. Brown, 
and 1^11 make the sketch right now.^' 

After a great deal of thought and much 
hard work, Benny evolved an idea which met 
with the chief outlaw’s ” approval. On one 
side the design represented an armor-clad 
knight with his heel on the neck of a pros- 
trate boy who was apparently yelling with all 
his might. 

The chap on the ground represents the 
school,” explained Benny. 

Great idea I ” exclaimed Brown. What’s 
the knight ? ” 

** A figure representing tyranny and op- 
pression,” answered Benny, glibly. “ I 
haven’t studied history for nothing, have I, 
Brown ? ” 

“ I’m agreeably surprised,” murmured 
‘^Crackers.” ‘‘I really didn’t expect it of 
you, Benny. The Ramblers are shown in 
their true light at last. What’s that mass of 
lines on the right — a house on fire ? ” 


Ball Nine 


179 


“ Goodness gracious, no ! That’s going to 
be the Goddess of Reason, enthroned, bowing 
to the will of the school. I’ll stick your phiz 
on the front row. Brown, and the lady’ll be 
giving you the glad hand.” 

“ Stunning idea ! ” said Brown. I guess 
if the government ever catches sight of this 
poster they’ll have you design all their new 
postage stamps. When will it be done ? ” 

I’ll bring it around to the school to-mor- 
row morning.” 

Good I And I’ll put on the lettering.” 

Benny aided the gas company considerably 
that night, never stopping work until a piece 
of heavy wrapping-paper two by three feet 
had been liberally flooded with color. 

To be sure, it looked a little odd in the 
morning ; for the surfaces which seemed so 
delicately yellow at night proved to be of a 
startling brilliancy. 

But the poster, mounted on a board, at- 
tached to a stout stick, and planted in a 
prominent position on the campus, made the 
sensation for which Brown had hoped. 

Pushing, jostling crowds quickly gathered 
before it. Every one seemed to be asking 


i8o The Rambler Club’s 

questions or answering them. All through 
the school an inquiry found its way : 

“ Say, have you seen that poster ? 

Those who hadn’t quickly joined the army 
of those who had. 

Only the calm counsel of Bob Somers and 
Dave Brandon prevented some of their hot- 
headed supporters from hurling the offending 
object to the ground and trampling it to 
pieces. 

** The drawing is very good indeed,” said 
Dave. “ Benny’s an artist. He ought to be 
encouraged.” 

How can you talk about the mean little 
duffer that way, Dave?” exclaimed Tom, 
wrathfully. 

“ Don’t take it too seriously, Tom. We 
haven’t lost our jobs yet.” 

All the same, I’m afraid I’ll have to get 
out if the rumpus keeps up much longer,” re- 
flected Charlie Blake. 

Brown’s announcement called for a meet- 
ing that afternoon under an enormous elm on 
the campus. His object was to explain to the 
students the Hopes’ ” contention that they 
had the better team and by gaining recruits 


Ball Nine i8i 

compel the regulars to yield to their de- 
mands. 

When class exercises were over Crackers/’ 
Roycroft and Owen Lawrence, followed by 
every member of the ‘‘ outlaws,” in uniform, 
made directly for the tree. 

A dense, excited crowd of students awaited 
them. A rousing cheer went up. 

“ Rah, rah, rah for Roycroft ! Hurrah for 
Brown and Lawrence ! ” was carried off on a 
surging sea of sound. 

The Somers crowd, glum but determined- 
looking, seldom voiced a protest. 

Dan Brown promptly mounted a box placed 
under the wide-spreading branches of the tree. 
The excitement and tumult found no reflec- 
tion on his face. 

Fellows,” he began, in a calm, even voice, 
** the school is going to get those grounds I ” 

A burst of wild cheering came from his fol- 
lowers. 

In order to do this great work for the 
High we’ve been obliged to match extraordi- 
nary conditions with extraordinary methods. 
Fellows, we must determine which shall rule : 
red tape and regularity, or common sense.” 


i 82 


The Rambler Club’s 


Common sense, common sense I roared 
an admiring contingent. 

So say we all ! There’s material enough 
here to form a nine which could trim any 
team in the section.” 

Another salvo of cheers rang out. 

Some fellows seem to have the silly idea 
that we’re doing all this to stir up trouble. 
I was impolitely told yesterday to meander 
over to Guffin’s and hatch up another plot.’' 

Jeers, and shouts of “ Vanitas ! ” from Law- 
rence. 

Really, it quite pained me. Why are we 
doing this thing, boys? ” 

For the good of the school I ” bellowed 
his team in chorus. 

“ Exactly 1 Our proposition for the Ram- 
blers to play us has been turned down. 
Why ? ” 

Because they know that you’d lick ’em 
worse than the Stars have done!” yelled 
Aleck Parks. 

An emphatic roar of approval, mingled with 
hand-clapping and shrill whistling, brought a 
gleam of pleasure into Brown’s gray eyes. 

That’s it I Fellows, I have three proposi- 


Ball Nine 


183 

tions to offer. Alone, we count as nothing ; 
but with the school behind us our force would 
be as irresistible as the — as the 

‘‘ He^s stuck ! ” cried Victor Collins. “ He’s 
floundering I ” 

As the tides,” completed Brown. 

I told you I He’s floundering in the 
tides,” giggled Victor. 

The first proposition is this : simply force 
the regulars to play us, and prove they have 
the better team — if they can. If the crowd 
continues to refuse, the second proposition is 
to demand a thorough reorganization. I have 
players who ought to be on the school team.” 

‘‘ Roycroft, Roycroft, Roycroft ! ” shouted 
the students. 

And until the other day I never knew 
what star players we had in Platt and Bush 
— both of ’em nearly six feet of bone and 
muscle — plenty of skill and speed, besides.” 

The noise and confusion became so great 
that “ Crackers’ ” oration only reached those 
on the outside of the mass as disconnected 
sentences. 

“ The ' Hopes ’ will have such a string of 
" victories ” 


184 The Rambler Club’s 

“ Hurrah, hurrah 1 shouted the crowd. 

Order, order I bawled Lawrence. 

The tumult subsided. 

‘‘ Proposition number three is this : in case 
the Ramblers refuse all overtures, the students 
shall recognize our team — the hard-working, 
victorious ' Hopes ' — as the official representa- 
tive of the school I ” 

The storm of approval which immediately 
followed grew to such uproarious proportions 
as to make the combined efforts of the “ out- 
laws to restore order futile. Their voices 
were drowned in a roar of sound which car- 
ried a conviction to the hearts of Bob’s friends 
that the Kingswood High was about to be 
plunged into the stormiest period of its his- 
tory. 

Earl Roy croft looked hot and uncomfort- 
able as he heard his name called from every 
point of the campus. 

“ Roycroft, Roycroft I Speech — speech I ” 

This cry was caught up and repeated until 
the big fellow was literally forced to take his 
place beside Dan Brown. 

Only husky throats and tired lungs brought 
the quiet for which Dan Brown was pleading. 


Ball Nine 


185 

** Look out — there’ll be a perfectly good 
box busted under that ton weight I piped 
Victor Collins. 

“ Fellows, I appreciate your kindness,'^ said 
the big captain of the “ Hopes. ‘‘ I only 
want to do the right thing for the school. 
We all know that every effort should be made 
to win Mr. Barry's field ; and I'm afraid the 
regular team is not equal to the job. I am 
one of those who believe the majority counts. 
If you agree with Brown — and it looks very 
much as if you do — all I have to say is : give 
us your support." 

We will — we will I " 

Our team is going to develop rapidly. 
We ask you to watch its progress." 

As Earl stepped down, to be slapped enthu- 
siastically upon the shoulder by Owen Law- 
rence, Brown spoke up : 

‘‘ If any of the officers of the athletic asso- 
ciation or the Ramblers are present I invite 
them to state their side of the case. That's 
fair enough, isn't it ? " 

There was an instant of tense silence. 

They're over on the lot practicing, 
coachy," cried Victor Collins. ‘‘ Those chaps 


i86 


The Rambler Club’s 


are right on the job, while you're putting up 
the biggest blow I ever listened to." 

“ Crackers " gazed toward him mildly, but 
made no reply. 

“ Fellows " — he abruptly raised his voice 
to a pitch of harshness — “ I ask you to pledge 
your support. Those who are with us raise 
their hands." 

Arms shot up from every quarter, and the 
roar of voices which accompanied the move- 
ment caused the boys practicing on the dis- 
tant field to stop and look around. 


CHAPTER XV 


A DECISION 

“ I HOPE you understand, Somers, that I 
have nothing against you fellows. Nobody 
ever heard me squeal. But if the school 
wants me to play what can I do ? 

Earl Roycroft, with an expression of embar- 
rassment on his good-natured face, was speak- 
ing to Bob Somers, not more than an hour 
after the meeting on the campus. 

** I donT blame you, Roycroft, answered 
Bob, as the two walked along Central Avenue. 

I^m sure the rest won’t, either.” 

Not even Tom? ’’queried the captain of 
the “ Hopes,” with a faint smile. 

On reflection, I’m not so sure about that,” 
grinned Bob. 

We’re old friends, Somers ; and I hope 
this ” — Earl paused. A troubled look shone 
in his eyes — this unfortunate muddle won’t 
cause any trouble between us.” 

It isn’t going to.” 


187 


i88 The Rambler Club’s 


“ Well, it must go against the grain to see 
oneof your old chums on the opposition line-up. 
Honestly, Somers, don’t you think ” — Earl 
hesitated again — “ that you’d better — well — 
reconsider this matter ? It’s a fact, Somers : 
you’re losing supporters every day. The 
thought of saying good-bye to that field has 
put such a scrapping spirit into the boys that 
they’re ready to fight to a finish.” 

Bob reflected a moment before answering. 

“ Then you mean that we should yield to 
popular clamor ? ” 

“ No, that isn’t it. I hope — I hope you 
won’t be offended if I speak plainly.” A 
smile from Bob encouraged the rival captain 
to continue. You chaps have been traveling 
about so much you haven’t had a chance to 
keep in the game like some of the others. I 
don’t say you can’t play good ball — mind. 
When your crowd was practicing, as candidates 
for the team, you looked good to all of us. 
But, somehow” — Earl became considerably 
embarrassed again; his eyes shifted from the 
frank gaze of his companion — “ I suppose I’ll 
have to finish it,” he sighed — “ you don’t seem 
to be of a quite strong enough caliber to truly 


Ball Nine 189 

represent the school. Now, Bob, it's out ; and 
I guess you feel mighty hot about it? " 

“ Not a bit, Earl. I admire your honesty 
and candor. I’ll agree that things look rather 
discouraging. Still,” — the captain seemed to 
weigh his words — don’t you think your 
very contention that we’ve not had as much 
practice as the others is an argument in our 
favor?” 

^‘How?” 

Because, in a little time, we’ll round into 
shape. The nine is improving steadily, though 
some of the fellows are so excited and hasty 
they can’t see it.” 

Roycroft shook his head. 

** I don’t doubt you are sincere in feeling 
that way, Somers,” he said, slowly, but the 
boys couldn’t be made to think so. Then, 
again, you’ve lost your batting eye. Mr, 
Rupert Barry has kicked enough about that, 
I’m sure.” 

** I’ve heard about it,” laughed Bob, dryly. 

** And some of the fellows feel sure — I don’t 
like to say it, Somers — that you’re not playing 
as well as you did a couple of years ago. Tom 
Clifton, too, though he’s done some pretty 


190 


The Rambler Club’s 


good work, doesn’t seem to have the necessary 
physical strength.” 

Earl looked searchingly at his companion, 
expecting each instant to see a gleam of anger 
in his eye. Bob, however, gave no indication 
that his feelings were disturbed. 

“ One thing, Roycroft,” he said : ‘^you spoke 
about our traveling around so much we couldn’t 
keep in good trim. This applies only to Dave, 
Tom and myself. There are six others in 
every game.” 

“ Sometimes one man is enough to lose a 
contest,” answered Roycroft, dryly. 

You’re right there,” grinned Bob. 

Aren’t you going to listen to my advice, 
Somers? ” 

Why, I’m not running things, Earl. I’m 
only captain of the team.” 

“ Come now, Bob, don’t try to put up any 
such ridiculous bluff as that. If you wanted 
the team reorganized it would probably be 
done.” 

Who do you want fired ? ” asked Bob, 
bluntly. 

‘‘ Blake, Clifton, Boggs and maybe a couple 
of others,” answered Roycroft, with equal 


Ball Nine 


191 

bluntness. ** Think it over, Somers. I’ll 
leave you here. Sure you don’t feel sore about 
what I’ve said ? ” 

“ Not a bit of it,” responded Bob, heartily. 

It hasn’t ruffled a hair. So-long, Earl. Yes; 
I’ll think it over.” 

On the same evening all five members of the 
Rambler Club met in Bob Somers’ study to 
discuss the situation. The languid air which 
usually characterized Dave Brandon was en- 
tirely absent. 

‘‘ We must take a firm hand. Bob,” he said, 
emphatically. The only question to consider 
is this : are we merely stubborn and mistaken, 
or is our confidence in the team so justified 
that we can feel sure of final success ? ” 

“ If our nine isn’t quite up to the ^ Hopes ’ 
now I am certain that later on it will be a 
great deal better,” said Bob. 

How did they manage to get such a good 
team ? ” 

That’s easy to figure out,” replied Dick 
Travers. “ Wherever he could, ‘ Crackers ’ 
selected the biggest men. Most of the chaps 
belong to the roughest bunch in school — an 
unruly lot. They have plenty of brute 


192 


The Rambler Club’s 

strength, and are sort of carrying things by 
rough-house methods.’^ 

'' But the club can play and is likely to go 
right on winning/’ said Dave, emphatically. 

“ Oh, I’m not saying anything against their 
ability,” admitted Dick. But outside of 
Roycroft and several others, it is chiefly con- 
fined to hitting.” 

“They can line out the ball — and that’s 
about all they can do,” supplemented Tom. 

“ If it wins games it’s enough,” returned 
Dave. “ Now suppose we could beat the 
' Hopes ’ to smithereens. Would you play 
’em ? ” 

Dave broke into a broad grin, but the 
others looked very solemn indeed. 

“ It’s awful to feel that lots of fellows think 
we’re crawling,” said Bob, “ but, in that case, 
perhaps — perhaps — we would.” 

After a short pause, Dave continued : 

“ Since the organization of the Rambler 
Club the crowd has run into some pretty 
stirring adventures, and has had quite a few 
thrills.” He smiled quizzically. “ I refer 
you to the history now appearing in the 
‘ Reflector.’ ” 


Ball Nine 


193 

“ Never read better writing in my life ; it’s 
stunning ! ’’ cried Tom. 

“ Thanks I Now let’s get back to the issue. 
We’ve had things pretty much our own way. 
All of us graduate this year. We expected to 
leave school in a blaze of glory, with the win- 
ning of Mr. Rupert Barry’s field as the final 
achievement of our student days. I agree 
with you, Bob : in a short time the regulars 
will be a stronger nine than the Brown aggre- 
gation.” 

“Why not just call his bluff and play 
them?” exclaimed Tom, excitedly. 

“ Oh, no,” said Dave, with a twinkle in his 
eye. “ They might beat us. And if they 
did we’d find ourselves squelched and thrown 
on the scrap heap.” 

“ And so fast that we’d never recover from 
it,” added Sam Randall. “ Our crowd would 
have the pleasure of standing around watching 
the ^ Hopes’ play in the inter-scholastic series.” 

“ There are a lot of chaps in the school who 
would help * Crackers ’ throw us out just for 
the sake of the excitement. Nothing to do, 
fellows, except to fight the thing right out to 
a finish.” 


194 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ And we can hold our end up, too I cried 
Tom. Of all the mean chumps I ever ran 
across that Earl Roycroft is the biggest. What 
do you think ? He had the nerve to speak to 
me this evening — honest, Bob, I came mighty 
near calling him down — said he wanted to 
explain things ; and I told him he neediiT 
mind.’^ 

Oh, Earl’s all right,” laughed Bob. 

All wrong, you mean. Suppose Steele 
should put him and a few others on the team? 
Do you think it would stop ‘ Crackers ’ 
Brown’s hollering? Not on your life I He’d 
groan like a wheezy old locomotive for some- 
thing else.” 

Just my idea,” agreed Dick Travers. 

Then I gather that we’re going to stick it 
out, eh. Bob ? ” said Dave Brandon. 

Yes I ” answered the captain, with em- 
phasis. I have studied the playing of the 
' Hopes ’ carefully. Roger Steele agrees with 
me that they won’t get much further in the 
fine points of the game.” 

And that’s just the thing we’re trying 
for,” said Tom. 

Bob beat a tattoo on the floor with his foot. 


Ball Nine 


»95 


‘‘ We were a bit rusty, fellows, he confessed. 
“ It^s taken us longer to get into condition 
than I expected. I feel that we are no- 
where near our true form yet.^' 

“ I never thought things would turn out 
like this,” said Tom, disconsolately. “ Nearly 
every time I pass one of the ‘ Pie-eaters and 
doughnut crowd ’ they say something mean. 
Good thing they can’t get my nerve like they 
do Charlie Blake’s once in a while.” 

Well, then, it’s settled,” said Sam. 

We’ll just let the opposition howl itself 
hoarse.” 

‘‘ If they’d only stop their yelp and let us 
alone it would show a lot more sense,” re- 
marked Dick Travers. How in thunder do 
they expect us to win while they’re kicking 
up such a row and knocking us on every 
side? But never mind ; they can’t bluff us.” 

‘‘ You bet they can’t I ” cried Tom. 

Boys, I fear I have a big supply of the 
weaknesses of human nature,” said Dave. 

I’m actually stirred up about this thing ; 
I’m in a fighting mood. Why are we acting 
this way ? ” 

‘‘ For the good of the school I ” laughed Bob. 


196 The Rambler Club’s 

And for our own good, too ! 

‘‘ This little meeting has put us straight on 
the affair,’’ remarked Sam Randall. ‘‘ Our 
only chance to win out is to stick together. 
The student body elected us to take charge of 
the athletic interests of the High ; and, in do- 
ing so, they gave us rights which we must 
now force them to recognize. If they have 
common sense enough to do so, the rest ought 
to be easy.” 

The boys enjoyed the evening more than 
any had anticipated, and, on taking leave of 
one another, each firmly resolved to show the 
enemy a bold, determined front. 


CHAPTER XVI 

TOM IS “ RATTLED 

“The fourth straight/' said Aleck Parks. 
“ The ‘ Hopes ' are mowing 'em down as easily 
as a scythe cuts grass. How's that for play- 
ing, Luke Phelps ? Wasn't yesterday's game 
a peach? Nine to six against Willington. 
Roycroft cracked out a homer, a two-base hit 
and a single. Oh, yes ; that's going some. I 
saw ‘ Vanitas ' sneaking around in the crowd 
looking kind of pale." 

“ If the Ramblers lose the next game they'll 
be yanked from their jobs as fast as a vacuum 
cleaner sucks up dust," remarked Phelps, 
complacently. “ They go over to play the 
Engletons again to-morrow." 

“ Another bucket of white stuff for the 
official record," growled Parks. “ Let's get 
away. Here comes * Checkered-Cap.' " 

“ Afraid of him ? " laughed Luke. 

“ No I It's his own safety I'm thinking 
197 


198 The Rambler Club’s 

about. Ever since I met him IVe had a hard 
time to keep from handing him something 
that might disturb his center of gravity.” 

“ Simply awful I ” grinned Phelps. Let’s 
do the next worse thing — go over and see the 
Ramblers practicing.” 

An ominous calm seemed to hover over the 
school. The “ Hopes’ ” string of clean-cut vic- 
tories was bringing more wavering Somers ad- 
herents into the “ outlaw ” camp. The quiet 
did not lull the fears of the staunch support- 
ers of the regulars. It seemed to possess a 
deeper, more significant meaning than the 
noisy, wild demonstrations which had taken 
place on the campus. 

On the following afternoon the Engleton 
trolley did a flourishing business. Eager 
students and townspeople packed the cars to 
their fullest capacity. 

Engleton was a little town about five miles 
distant, nestling amidst an amphitheater of 
hills. The baseball field was situated in the 
northern part, hemmed in on three sides by 
steep, grass-covered slopes. At the extreme 
end of the open section an immense pile of 
ashes covered what was once a treacherous 





I KNOW YOUR GAME 




Ball Nine 


199 


gully. Several ramshackle frame dwellings, 
surrounded by rickety or broken fences, with 
here and there great piles of rubbish, indi- 
cated that Goatville was not the most se- 
lect part of the town. 

By the time the regulars arrived the ball 
field and grassy hills were crowded. 

I hope you^ll enjoy this game, Roycroft,^^ 
said Crackers Brown. “ I can't help feel- 
ing kind of sorry for Bob Somers. He's a 
pretty good sort. But I guess this is the last 
game the Ramblers will play as the school 
team." 

Here, Dan Brown, you cut out calling it 
the Ramblers' team, or there'll be a whole lot 
of trouble I " cried a gruff voice so near at 
hand that the captain of the “ Hopes " was 
startled. 

Tom Clifton, with flushed face, was striding 
forward. 

“ Trouble ? " echoed Brown. 

“ Yes I And more than you can handle. 
I know your game. Brown. You've been 
sneaking around, trying to put it into every- 
body's head that the Rambler Club is running 
this team. Do you get me, Dan Brown ? " 


200 The Rambler Club’s 

I shall pretty soon,” returned Crackers,” 
solemnly. 

“ Oh, you think you’re mighty smart I ” 
cried Tom. But if your specs weren’t so 
blurred with conceit you’d see that you’re go- 
ing too far.” 

“ I suppose this is a little prelude to the 
show,” said the coach, pleasantly. It’s a 
bad thing for ball players to get overheated 
before the umpire begins his chirp. Please 
oblige me : run away and cool off.” 

“ Two forty-five p. m. A ball player ad- 
vised to run away and cool off,” piped Benny 
Wilkins, suddenly. What’s the best way, 
Mr. Brown — shower bath or ? ” 

“ You’re the meanest little duffer in the 
whole school I ” cried Tom, turning upon him 
wrathfully. It’s a wonder you have the 
nerve to show your face inside the door ! ” 

“ Well, I like that ! ” snorted Benny. 
“ Now what’s up ? ” 

'' Oh, you thought you could keep it quiet. 
But I found out, just the same.” 

'' Found out what ? ” 

‘‘ Why, it was you who said that mean 
thing about Mr. Barry planting corn on his 


Ball Nine 


201 


field ! fairly exploded Tom. You ought to 
be ashamed to look me in the face.’^ 

Benny was aghast. 

What — what ? ” he stammered. 

‘‘ I don’t wonder you can hardly speak,” 
went on Tom, fiercely. 

“Hardly speak?” interposed “Crackers.” 
“ Why, if you’re not careful, he’ll let off such 
a blast that we’ll all get blown down fiat.” 

“ Well, suppose I did say it 1 It was all a 
joke!” admitted Benny. 

“ A fine joke 1 ” jeered Tom. “ Didn’t it 
make Mr. Barry so mad that he almost felt 
like withdrawing his offer? Oh, I know all 
about it 1 ” 

The look of embarrassment faded from 
Benny’s eyes, to be replaced by an expression 
of blazing anger. 

“ I don’t care if you do,” he roared. “ And 
I know something about you, too, that ought 
to make you chuck off that uniform and beat 
it back to Kingswood.” 

“ Get out 1 ” snapped Tom. “ You don’t 
know anything, and never could know any- 
thing. That wooden head-piece of yours 
wouldn’t hold it.” 


202 


The Rambler Club’s 

“ You haven’t got anything on me, ^ Vani- 
tas ! ’ ” Benny Wilkins stalked forward, plant- 
ing himself directly before the tall first base- 
man. I don’t, eh ? ” he cried. Just listen 
to this : one day in the gym you called Mr. 
Barry an eccentric old creature — you know 
you did.” 

Tom’s face flushed a deeper crimson. 

Well — well ? ” he demanded. 

And Mr. Barry heard about that, too I 
I got it from a fellow who knows. And 
maybe he wasn’t riled I — said he wished he’d 
never made the confounded offer.” 

“ I — I don’t believe it,” gasped Tom. 

Ask Victor Collins, then. You will try 
to sit on me, ‘ Vanitas ’ — you will, eh ? ” 

If Mr. Barry heard about it. I’ll bet you 
told him yourself I ” howled Tom, thoroughly 
angry. “ You’re small in every way, Benny 
Wilkins. Bob Somers and Steele caught you 
spying.” 

‘‘ You mean that I caught ’em trying to 
sneak into Mr. Barry’s without being seen,” 
retorted Benny. I never said a word to Mr. 
Barry. But if you get too fresh with me, 
^ Vanitas,’ he’s going to learn the name of the 


Ball Nine 


203 


particular chap who made such an interesting 
remark ; that’s the only thing he doesn’t 
know. Now— will that hold you for a min- 
ute?” 

The altercation was attracting considerable 
attention. A grinning crowd, industriously 
calling upon the two principals to “ mix it up 
a bit,” presently brought the realization to 
Tom that his thoughtless remark uttered in 
the gymnasium was being scattered broad- 
cast. 

‘‘ Said Mr. Barry was an eccentric old 
creature ! ” jeered Benny, and has the nerve 
to try and call me down for something not a 
quarter as bad I ” 

You’ve got the tall one going I ” cried an 
Engleton boy, encouragingly. Don’t be 
skeered. Wade right into him.” 

“ I’ll sic a goat on him ; that’s what I’ll 
do I ” exclaimed Benny. 

Hello, Tom Clifton ! Hello, Tom ! ” com- 
ing over the air was the most pleasant sound 
the first baseman had heard for some time. 
“ We’re ready for practice,” continued the 
voice — Roger Steele’s. Hello, Tom! Where 
are you ? ” 


204 


The Rambler Club’s 


Coming I bawled Tom. Then darting 
an angry, flustered look at his little tor- 
mentor, he added : I haven't done with 

you yet, Benny Wilkins." 

Is that so ? " sneered Benny. “ If you 
and Blake had sense enough to get off* the 
team maybe all this row in the school would 
come to an end." 

Do you think I'll stand for being pushed 
off? Well, I rather guess not I " cried Tom. 

“ Have a wooden head-piece, have I ? Well, 
it isn't a solid block like yours. Just remem- 
ber : If the school doesn't get those grounds 
T. ‘ Vanitas ' Clifton will be one of the chaps 
who's most responsible. Everybody's saying 
it." 

Embarrassed and confused by the staring, 
noisy crowd, so full of emotion that his tongue 
seemed almost incapable of framing the words 
he wished to utter, the first baseman turned 
away. 

“ Everybody saying it, eh ? " 

Tom Clifton's thoughts sprang back to the 
beginning of the season, when, full of confi- 
dence and enthusiasm, he had expected the 
High's team to go from one victory to another. 


Ball Nine 


205 


‘‘ Vanitas ! ” The word rang in his ears. He 
recalled now that his zeal and earnest efforts 
in behalf of the nine had called forth remarks 
of a somewhat similar nature before. But his 
armor of confidence was so great that the shafts 
dropped harmlessly aside. 

** I never could have believed it,” he mur- 
mured. The fellows are twisting my words 
and manner into something wholly unde- 
served. They ought to see that it was only 
because I^m red hot for the school and team.” 

The first baseman was so deep in thought 
that he scarcely heeded the voices of the fans, 
or the sharp cracks of the bats as the balls 
were sent flying over the field. 

So everybody's saying it : if we don^t get 
the field Ifll be one of the chaps who’s most 
responsible, eh ? By George ! I wonder if 
it’s true ! I’ll find out before night.” 

Tom’s thoughts turned to the crowd — the 
fickle crowd — ever ready to yell itself hoarse 
when things were breaking right, but which, 
he reflected bitterly, was often equally ready 
to jeer and hoot a player off the field on small 
provocation. 

What’s the matter, Tom ? Aren’t you 


2o6 The Rambler Club’s 


going to practice to-day ? called Roger Steele, 
catching sight of him from his position near 
home plate. 

Sure I responded Tom, making a strong 
effort to change the channel of his thoughts. 

Anything wrong, son ? Steele came for- 
ward. He lowered his voice. ‘^You look 
kind of down in the mouth.’^ 

Oh, it’s nothing,” said Tom. 

Well, get busy. I think we can turn the 
trick to-day.” 

Tom had been losing his self-consciousness. 
Now, however, it returned with added force. 
The first baseman could not shake off a feeling 
that the fans, friends and foes alike, had their 
eyes upon him, watching every move. The 
vigorous shouts, the blasts from megaphones 
and the strains from Victor Collins’ bugle 
seemed to possess an importance which he had 
never noticed before. He felt in a far greater 
degree than the other players how much 
hinged on the contest. 

With his nerves at a tension Tom was, 
naturally, unable to do himself justice. In 
his over-anxiety to play the best game of his 
life he made several errors which called forth 


Ball Nine 


207 

derisive yells of butterfingers I from the 
familiar voice of Benny Wilkins. 

Take him out I ” yelled some one else. 

'^How'd he get on the nine?^^ screeched 
Aleck Parks. 

Who told him he could play ball?’^ 
shouted Jim Wilton. 

“ IPs enough to make any self-respecting 
trolley company refuse to carry him home,” 
growled Luke Phelps. “ I wonder if he’s 
selling out the High ? ” 

“ I suppose that kind of talk is for the 
good of the school?” roared a tremendous 
voice. 

Captain Bunderley glowered savagely upon 
the group, the members of which, a little 
startled at having their words overheard by 
so firm a friend of the Ramblers, returned his 
gaze without speaking. 

‘‘ You remind me of a mutinous crew who 
deserts the captain of a ship in the hour of 
peril.” The skipper’s tones spoke volumes of 
disapproval and disgust. How do you expect 
that lad to play when you’re doing everything 
you can to rattle him ? ” 

'' Good ! Soak it to ’em, Uncle Ralph,” 


2 o 8 The Rambler Club’s 

cried Victor Collins. They certainly need 
it.” 

You may have started out honestly 
enough,” went on the captain, relentlessly, 
“ but your idea now seems to be to have your 
own way at any cost.” 

The group was silent and sullen. 

Then the heavy broadside of the captain 
seemed to waft them away like the blasts of a 
hurricane. That part of the field knew them 
no more. 

He’s the noisiest old chap I ever saw,” 
cried Aleck Parks, after a distance of two 
hundred feet separated them from the skipper. 
‘‘ I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.” 

Why didn’t you ? ” asked Benny Wilkins. 

Maybe your intellect suffered a complete 
lapse.” 

You’re like a two-edged sword, Benny,” 
growled Aleck. You’ve got something mean 
to say to everybody. Fellows, the only thing 
I ask is this : if you see me getting anywhere 
near ‘Checkered-Cap’ to-day grab me at the 
front, back and sides. I’m afraid I might ac- 
cidentally let fly, and pulverize him.” 

“ By Jingo ! There’s Brown talking to the 


Ball Nine 


209 

old salt water pirate, now,’^ put in Benny. 
“ Another fifty feet for me. I wonder if we'd 
better run ? His voice gives me the staggers." 

I’m going back," announced Parks, firmly. 

Roycroft and Lawrence are with Brown. 
Ha, ha I I think they’ll protect us from vio- 
lence." 

Captain Bunderley’s arm, directed straight 
toward them, however, caused Benny Wilkins’ 
motion of fifty feet to be immediately seconded. 

Those were the chaps," the skipper said 
to the imperturbable Brown. 

“ But, captain, the boys are all worked up 
over this affair ; you can’t expect ’em to act 
like a lot of little French dancing masters," 
protested Brown. 

All nonsense I I say emphatically you’re 
not giving the nine a fair show. I’ve noticed 
your carryings-on." 

Sorry you feel that way, captain. We 
look upon things differently. When a set of 
fellows chosen to represent the school doesn’t 
make good it’s up to the boys to find another 
set who will." 

And that’s what we’ve done," put in 
Owen Lawrence. 


210 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ I^m sorry all this has happened/^ put in 
Earl Roycroft. No one wanted to see Bob 
Somers succeed more than 

A tremendous volley of cheering and the 
sight of boys waving their caps in the air put 
a stop to Captain Bunderley’s reply. 

Looking over the scene, he saw hilarious 
groups racing down the grass-covered slopes 
and the field being invaded by a stream of 
humanity on its way to the break in the hills 
beyond. 

'' Ah ! The game must be ended, said 
Captain Bunderley. I was so busy talking 
I forgot to look. What is the score, young 
fellow ? 

He addressed a boy just passing. 

Five — two, favor Engleton.’^ 

“ That clinches our argument, Captain 
Bunderley ! exclaimed Brown. Compare 
the showing the ‘ Hopes * made against En- 
gleton with that of the Rambler Club’s ball 
nine.” He paused an instant then added 
significantly : '' This is probably the last 
game they’ll play as the recognized team of 
the Kingswood High.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


BENNY WINS A NOTE-BOOK 

That night, Tom Clifton, a sadly-disturbed 
boy, paced the floor of his room. Mental 
pictures of the events of the afternoon con- 
stantly passed in a disordered array before 
his mind. 

He knew that he had made a wretchedly 
poor showing in the game. 

But whose fault was it? 

In a heated discussion with Roycroft he 
had attempted to place the blame where he 
felt that it belonged, only to become con- 
vinced that his efforts were wasted. The big 
fellow told him all he cared to know about 
the general sentiment that existed among the 
students. 

In the quiet of the room Tom Clifton at- 
tempted to study the situation from all sides. 
He owned to himself that he felt very unlike 
the boy who played in the opening game. 
But it was not until to-day that his confi- 
211 


212 The Rambler Club’s 

dence had received a blow in a vulnerable 
spot. 

What should he do ? 

The thought of again facing the jeering, 
critical fans ” of the opposition and the sar- 
castic cries which were bound to come from 
Benny Wilkins and others on the smallest 
provocation made the hot blood mount to his 
face. 

He paused before the window, to gaze out 
upon the starlit sky and the long lines of 
houses and lights which lost form and bril- 
liancy in the distance. Mechanically, he 
watched the passers-by, envying their appar- 
ent freedom from care and trouble. 

I wonder if Bob has ever thought I should 
get off the team I 

Tom Clifton had never before been assailed 
with such conflicting emotions. Was Mr. 
Barry’s field destined to become the monu- 
ment to the folly of a few ? 

I’ll go right over and see Bob now,” he 
decided, suddenly. 

And then, just as Tom was about to open 
the door, the sarcastic, grinning face of Benny 
Wilkins seemed to flash before his eyes. 


Ball Nine 


213 


“ Am I going to let that chap think I’m a 
quitter ? ” he exclaimed, aloud. No, sir ; 
not on your life I I’ll play the game to the 
end.” 

A heavy load of anxiety seemed to instantly 
take wing. The grim, set expression about 
the first baseman’s lips relaxed. He walked 
with a springy step to his study table and 
plumped himself down on a chair before it. 

“ No, Mr. Benny Wilkins, you’ll never 
have a chance to say I have a yellow streak,” 
he muttered. I understand those chaps. 
Work to beat the band to scare a fellow ofi* 
the team, and when he does call him a quit- 
ter.” 

Once more Tom plunged into his studies, 
thinking his doubts and perplexities were en- 
tirely cleared away. As he picked up a Latin 
grammar, however, the mocking cries of 

Vanitas! — Vanitas I ” which of late had be- 
come more frequent popped into his head. 

‘‘ Van-i-tas ! ” he repeated, slowly. He 
raised his elbow on the table ; his chin 
dropped into the palm of his hand. And I 
heard that ‘ Crackers ’ Brown said I was a 
conceited specimen, if there ever was one. 


214 


The Rambler Club’s 


It’s all a mistake. I never was either vain 
or conceited. Still ” 

Tom paused. He was studying hard to 
view himself and his conduct from the disin- 
terested standpoint of a spectator. He strove 
to reconstruct scenes and incidents about the 
ball field. 

Yes ; perhaps his remarks to the ** Pie- 
eaters and doughnut crowd ” had carried a 
note of egotism, which, at the time, he never 
suspected. He had talked in a big ” fashion, 
too, about what he expected the nine to do 
on the diamond. It was pretty hard to throw 
the cold light of analysis upon himself ; yet, 
once started, he continued relentlessly. 

At last Tom leaned back in his chair with 
a sigh. A smile played about his mouth. 
The fiood of thoughts brought him to a better 
understanding of himself than he had ever 
before possessed. He realized now how easy 
it must have been for the boys to think him 
a shallow boaster. 

Maybe this hasn’t been such a bad thing, 
after all,” he reflected. Even Dave, I re- 
member, has looked at me in a queer way 
once in a while. I’ll be a bit more careful 


Ball Nine 


215 


what I say from now on. As for all those 
howling rooters, they'll never get me going 
again. And Benny can keep right on yell- 
ing his ' butterfingers ' and ^ bonehead ' in 
that little piping voice of his until it goes on 
strike.” 

Tom Clifton turned to his books again, and 
this time was able to give his undivided at- 
tention to study. 

When the members of the nine got together 
in the gym on the following day their faces 
looked grave but determined. 

That last defeat seems to have made some 
of the fellows pretty sore,” remarked Bob 
Somers. 

“ The biggest kick of all is coming mighty 
soon,” said Alf Boggs. “ ■ Crackers ^ Brown 
and his crowd aren't saying much just now. 
But you can bet your uniforms they're getting 
ready.” 

‘‘ I have the pleasant sensation of a chap 
who is sitting on a keg of gunpowder with 
some one behind about to touch it off,” put 
in Dave Brandon, dryly. 

‘‘Oh, I wish to goodness it was all over,” 
sighed Charlie Blake. 


2i 6 The Rambler Club’s 


What ! The touching off process ? 
laughed Dave. I don’t want to leave the 
diamond that way. There’s no glory in it.” 

“ Besides, it might hurt one’s feelings,” said 
Willie Singleton. 

“ Well, I haven’t had to go to a nerve spe- 
cialist yet,” grinned Fred Benson. How 
d’ye do, Joe Rodgers I Haven’t seen you for 
two days. What’s doing ? ” 

“ Seems to me an awful lot,” answered Joe, 
with a grin. ‘‘ Hello, Dave I Teacher says 
I’m going to make the High in great shape 
one of these days. What do you think ? I’m 
playing on a baseball team.” 

Which one ? ” asked Dave. 

The Stars. Nat Wingate said he’d give 
me a chance. Say, you don’t think it’s mean 
of me, do you ? ” 

“ Of course not,” answered the editor of the 
Reflector.” Good luck, Joe I And play for 
all you’re worth.” 

Boys were flocking in and out of the big 
room, and above the general noise Benny 
Wilkins’ voice soon made itself heard. 

“ I tell you it is so, Aleck Parks I Look 
out! Who’s treading on my toes? Yes, I 


Ball Nine 


217 


saw him myself, only a few minutes ago, 
walking along as if he owned the whole earth. 
And when he got to Mr. Rupert Barry's he 
turned and went up those steps. Quit lean- 
ing against me, Luke Phelps. Are you too 
lazy to support your own hundred and fif- 
teen pounds? Oh — there's Joe Rodgers over 
there I " 

“ Finish your story I " cried Parks. 

‘‘ It isn't any story ; it's true. Captain 
Bunderley didn't come out for twenty-five 
and a half minutes." 

“ Wonder what in thunder he went there 
for? " inquired Luke Phelps. 

“ Crackers " Brown, standing near the door- 
way, moved leisurely toward the group. 

“ Straight goods, Benny ? " he asked, pleas- 
antly. 

Certainly is. I jotted down a note, too. 
Reads like this : ‘ The Crackerites probably 
get their first big jolt.' You know. Brown, 
what the Cap thinks of this * For-the-good-of- 
the-school ' business." 

“ He's an old meddler," said Brown, in a 
low tone. The first thing you know he'll 
be stirring up trouble." 


2i8 


The Rambler Club’s 


I know something else, ^ Crackers,^ and it 
ought to put more ginger into your voice. 
When he left Mr. Barry the ‘ Ancient Mariner ’ 
came hiking right over to the school.’^ 

He did ? ” exclaimed Brown. 

“ He did ! He’s in there now. Guess he’s 
telling President Hopkins a few fine things 
about Parks, Phelps and Company. Their 
squeak yesterday didn’t do your side a bit of 
good. Brown.” 

The coach of the outlaws ” looked thought- 
ful. There was a gleam behind the eye-glasses 
which made Aleck Parks hope that a first 
class row might add zest to the afternoon. 

“ S’pose we skip over by the big front door 
and see him come out,” he suggested. 
“ Phelps, you an’ I’ll stand together close 
there ; an’ if he gives us a steely glare it’ll 
show, perhaps, that he’s been up to some mis- 
chief.” 

Not a bad idea,” said ‘‘ Crackers,” approv- 
ingly. ‘‘But, mind now, I don’t want you 
chaps to say anything.” 

Followed by a large group, the party walked 
outside, directing their steps toward the 
school entrance. 


Ball Nine 


219 

“ Where are you leading that army, Brown ? 
called Owen Lawrence from a distance. 

Follow us, and see I 

Lawrence relayed the message to Roycroft, 
who, with several other outlaws,^^ was 
already on his way to the practice field, the 
result of this move being that when Brown 
and his contingent arrived at the steps a 
straggling army was headed in the same 
direction. 

Questions and answers were hurled from 
one boy to another. Naturally, no one knew 
anything about the matter; but many thought 
they did. Rumors born of a chance utterance 
seemed to spread with the speed of a wireless 
message, until an excited and jostling crowd 
of students surrounded the stoop-shouldered 
form of the chief outlaw.'^ 

Hello, Brown ! I say — whaFs the mat- 
ter?^’ came from Owen Lawrence. 

“ Is the school on fire again ? asked Earl 
Roycroft, glancing upward at some smoke 
which emanated from a hidden chimney. 

“Yes I It’s burning up with indignation. 
But the blaze won’t get far before the firemen 
are on the job and put it out.” 


220 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Hooray for Brown I yelled Aleck Parks. 

Three rahs for the good of the school I 
shouted Benny Wilkins. 

“ And a ‘ tiger ^ to get after the Ramblers ! ” 
added Luke Phelps. 

My only regret is that we havenT a 
moving picture machine to get some films of 
our friend with the heavy-weight voice when 
he trips down the steps and sees this crowd,” 
remarked Brown. 

You^re a mean thing to want him to trip,” 
said Benny Wilkins. I guess those specs hide 
a hard, cruel light in your eyes.” 

Boys, I think we’d better skip,” said Earl 
Roy croft. Our busmess is ball playing ; not 
gaping at visitors to the school. Don’t you 
think this will look rather queer to Presi- 
dent Hopkins ? ” 

The enemy must be fought with their own 
weapons,” answered Brown. We wish to 
show the aid-de-camp of the Ramblers that 
those who have the good of the school at 
heart see everything going on. They must 
be shown that they can’t play this game of 
favoritism.” 

All right,” said Earl, resignedly. 


Ball Nine 


221 


Murmurs of indignation began to be heard. 
Rumors had become almost moulded into 
certainty. 

What right had the captain to interfere ? 

Five minutes later a warning Sh-h-h-h I 
rippled from the various groups. The door of 
the school was seen to open, and the portly 
form of Captain Bunderley stood on the top 
step. 

As he walked down his gaze was directed 
toward the gathering. Upon reaching the 
ground he paused. The lines on his good-na- 
tured face tightened when he saw the serenely 
smiling countenance of Crackers ” Brown. 

Aleck Parks found it convenient to avert 
his eyes from the glare which, a second later, 
fell upon him. He momentarily expected to 
hear a thunderous outburst. 

Captain Bunderley, however, showed no 
signs of recognition ; and, without a word, 
resumed his walk. The students watched his 
big form swinging along the graveled path 
until it passed outside the ornamental gate- 
posts. 

“ I feel sure he^s tried to do us,^' growled 
Parks. 


222 


The Rambler Club’s 


“Such an opinion is creditable to your 
power of discernment/^ said Brown. “ Back 
to the field, boys. The show is over.” 

On their way the coach called Benny 
Wilkins to his side. 

“Benny,” he said, “thanks for telling us 
about this. Want a job ? ” 

“ Not if there is any work to it.” 

“ VwG too much sense to ask you if there was.” 

“ You put me in mind of a cannon cracker 
that hasnT been exploded,” grunted Benny. 
“ Fire away ! ” 

“ Victor Collins has a pretty good line on 
what the captain says and does, hasnT he ? ” 

“ Certainly I ” 

“ Well, if you find out just why the captain 
went to see Mr. Barry, and what brought him 
over to annoy President Hopkins and tell me 
1^11 give you a new note-book.” 

“ The idea of asking me to act as a spy ! ” 
said Benny. “ Outrageous ! But 1^11 do it. 
Understand, of course, I donT like the job. 
What are crocodile tears, Brown ? That^s the 
kind somebody said you dropped every time 
the Ramblers play a game and are made to 
eat nothing but doughnuts.” 


Ball Nine 


223 


I know there’s a bunch of trouble-makers 
in this school, but that doesn’t worry me,” 
answered Brown. “ If the regulars had been 
winning games I’d probably be half asleep 
now reading a book. Get busy, Ben. Report 
to me after practice.” 

“ All right. Please remember, ‘ Crackers,’ 
I don’t want any book that you’ve fished out 
of some waste-basket.” 

Three-quarters of an hour later a slight boy 
wearing a large checkered cap, and who was 
intently watching the ** Hopes,” now hard 
at work, was approached by the grinning 
Wilkins. 

Say, Benny, I haven’t seen any of your 
articles in the ^ Refiector ’ yet,” began Victor 
Collins. I guess you can’t write worth 
beans.” 

My talents can’t be measured by the bean 
standard,” returned Benny. ** They cost only 
six cents a quart. Look at Bush shooting 
’em over home plate I Suppose your old 
Ramblers had to face pitching like that I 
Wouldn’t they get bowled down in one, two, 
three order ? ” 

‘‘ Go on. Know-it-all I ” snapped Victor. 


224 


The Rambler Club’s 


I wonder what kind of a game Bush’ll 
put up against Rockville Academy next 
Saturday. The inter-scholastic series begins 
then.” 

Victor Collins grinned. 

Funny little ideas seem to creep into that 
funny little noddle of yours,” he remarked. 

Neither Brown nor all the rest can bluff Bob 
Somers.” 

Is that so ? I know your Uncle Ralph is 
on the firing line, ready to use up all the 
ammunition he has in the shop to help ’em. 
Guess Mr. Barry told him the jig is up with 
the Ramblers.” 

Humph I Spying again I ” sniffed Victor. 

I don’t know what Mr. Barry said, and 
wouldn’t tell you if I did.” 

‘^You don’t even know what your uncle 
went to see him about, I s’pose ? ” 

** Of course I do.” 

I dare you to tell me.” 

Who do you think I’m afraid of — you ? ” 

Yes I And if you have the nerve to say 
that Captain Bunderley has been saying any- 
thing against the ‘ Hopes’ I’ll attend to your 
case right now.” 


Ball Nine 


225 


‘‘You will ! howled Victor, beginning to 
pull off his coat. “ You will I Well, wade 
right in and mix it up I That’s just what 
Uncle Ralph did do.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Collins,” said Benny, 
sweetly. “ You’ve given me all the informa- 
tion I wanted. Don’t you think I make a 
pretty good spy ? Ta, ta I ” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE PRESIDENT SPEAKS 

During recess on the following day Dan 
Brown knocked gently on the door of Presi- 
dent Hopkins' private office. 

Come in 1 " called a mild but authoritative 
voice. 

The president, a dignified figure, was seated 
at his desk near the window. 

“Good-morning, Brown! What can I do 
for you ? " 

He motioned the originator of the “ Hopes " 
crusade to a seat close by. 

“ I have been delegated by a committee to 
call upon you," answered “ Crackers," articu- 
lating each word with great distinctness. 

“ Ah, indeed I Who is the committee ? " 

“ Earl Roycroft, Owen Lawrence and Frank 
Bush, representing the new baseball club and 
almost the entire body of students." 

Professor Hopkins looked surprised. 

226 


Ball Nine 


227 

“ What is the nature of your business ? ” he 
asked. 

We think the time has come when an un- 
fortunate exhibition of obstinacy on the part 
of a few students should come to an end.’* 

“ Go ahead, Brown,*’ said the president, as 
the big lad paused. 

‘‘ We should be very glad indeed if you 
would allow us the use of the assembly room 
to hold a meeting.” 

“ For what purpose ? ” 

As you know, professor, the inter-scho- 
lastic series begins next Saturday. Rockville 
Academy will send its team over here to play 
the first game of the season. If the regulars 
meet them it is bound to be a bad day for the 
High ; the school team, so far, has failed to 
win a single victory, while the ^Hopes’ have 
not met with a single defeat.” 

The professor gazed abstractedly out of the 
window. Brown, the earnestness of his man- 
ner increasing, kept on. 

When Mr. Barry made his generous offer 
he positively said that only a winning team 
would get the grounds.” 

Quite true. Brown.” 


228 The Rambler Club’s 

Can you blame the boys for objecting 
strenuously when they see such a magnificent 
prospect fading with every game the regulars 
play ? 

The president’s revolving chair wheeled 
sharply around. He removed his eye-glasses, 
to stare searchingly into ‘‘ Crackers’ ” impas- 
sive face. 

‘‘ Brown,” he said, slowly, ‘‘ the boys com- 
posing the athletic association were elected to 
their respective positions by a great majority 
of the students. A coach was duly appointed 
and players selected. Do you think it is fair 
to them that, before the inter-scholastic season 
has actually started, they should be hampered 
and discouraged by their own comrades?” 

We are working for the good of the 
school,” answered ‘‘Crackers,” doggedly — 
“ that’s our motto.” 

“ But your ideas and the actual facts may 
not agree. You haven’t yet told me for what 
purpose you wish the assembly hall.” 

“ We would like to vote, to-morrow, on the 
question as to which team shall play Rock- 
ville Academy. Our fellows are perfectly 
willing to abide by the decision of the school. 


Ball Nine 


229 

That seems to all of us a perfectly fair propo- 
sition, professor/' 

Have you submitted the matter to the 
athletic association ? " 

“ We asked them to reorganize the team, 
and met with a curt refusal. We tried to get 
them to play our club, the ‘ Hopes ' — same 
thing again, although in the beginning they 
were quite ready to cross bats with any team.” 

“ Perhaps so. Brown. But the circum- 
stances in this case are entirely different. The 
regular coach usually attends to such matters. 
You have formed an organization which has 
no official standing ; it is not subject to the 
rules or direction of the athletic association. 
In fact, it is directly antagonistic to them.” 

“ The reason we ask for the hall is to give 
the club official standing,” returned Brown, 
easily. The students are clamoring to have 
this done.” 

President Hopkins shook his head. 

“ The faculty of the school never interferes 
with athletic affairs unless for very serious 
reasons. Those stated are not sufficient to 
justify me in acceding to your proposal.” The 
president leaned forward. My attention has 


230 


The Rambler Club’s 


been called to the fact that some of the boys 
have been shouting and carrying on in such 
a manner as to lead one to suppose that they 
desired above all things to see the regulars 
defeated. I heard this from a reliable au- 
thority.’’ 

‘‘ I’m afraid the person who told you is not 
disinterested,” said Brown. We know who 
he is. Besides, in every cause, there are 
nearly always some foolish hotheads whose 
actions can’t be controlled.” He rose to his 
feet. Don’t you think you could change 
your decision, professor ? I’m sure the stu- 
dents would appreciate having the use of the 
room ; and this troublesome matter ought to 
be ended at once.” 

No, Brown, I cannot.” 

There was no expression of chagrin or dis- 
appointment on the chief outlaw’s ” face, as 
he turned away, exclaiming cheerfully : 

I thank you very much for the interview, 
professor.” 

Of course, through the agency of Benny 
Wilkins and several others, Crackers’ ” visit 
to the principal immediately became known 
throughout the school. 


Ball Nine 


231 


“ And Brown got thrown down flat, Mr. 
Editor of the ‘ Reflector/ ” remarked Benny, 
addressing Dave Brandon. 

Please don^t send me a three-column 
article about it, Benny. What did Brown 
want with the assembly room? 

Oh, thaPs telling ! Spies have to keep 
mum. IVe gotten to be the greatest little 
sneak in the school, you know.’’ 

It’s all right so long as you do your spy- 
ing in the open,” laughed Dave. 

That afternoon the regulars went through 
their practice as usual. But the boys who 
gathered on the field seemed to be much more 
interested in comparing notes than they did 
in watching the players. 

“I reckon the big kick Alf Boggs spoke 
about is almost due,” laughed Coach Steele. 

Anyway, fellows, in spite of all this commo- 
tion, every one is steadily improving. I guess 
you’ve been a bit more disturbed than any of 
us really imagined.” 

Perhaps so,” said Bob. I suppose it’s 
like everything else ; our nerves have now 
become accustomed to the strain.” 

The unexpectedness of it was what got 


232 The Rambler Club’s 

me,” added Tom. How'd you feel about it, 
Blake?” 

“ Pretty badly, until the last few days,” 
admitted Charlie. 

You’ve both done rattling good work this 
afternoon,” put in the coach, encouragingly. 

Keep it up.” 

'' No one will ever see me play such a game 
as I did last time,” said Tom. 

We are finding our batting eye, too,” re- 
marked Dave. With a couple more weeks’ 
practice we ought to be right on edge.” 

“I notice the ^outlaws’ are networking 
to-day,” said Jack Frost.” Guess it means 
they’re still busy for the good of the school. 
But don’t let it worry any one.” 

The staunch Somers partisans who witnessed 
the practice were much pleased. And they 
industriously spread this fact broadcast. 

When the students gathered in the assem- 
bly room next morning they expected to hear 
only the usual introductory remarks from 
President Hopkins. The head of the school, 
however, instead of dismissing them at the 
customary moment, rose from his seat at a 
desk and advanced to the edge of the platform. 


Ball Nine 


233 


“ Boys/^ he said, in an earnest tone, “ I 
wish to speak to you about certain matters 
which I find are dividing the school into two 
factions, and, I regret to say, causing consid- 
erable ill-feeling.’^ 

A murmur of suppressed excitement, which 
found relief in muffled '' Oh’s I ” and Ah’s I ” 
spread through the hall. 

I do not doubt that the boys who are 
causing this commotion have been actuated 
by entirely good motives ; but, unfortunately, 
movements of this sort, which spring from 
disappointment, instead of helping matters 
often act as a hindrance.” 

“ Crackers ” Brown nudged his neighbor 
savagely in the ribs. 

‘‘ Did you get that, Platt ? ” he whispered — 
a hindrance ! ” 

** You can just bet the ‘ Ancient Mariner’ 
put the notion into his head. Those Ram- 
blers seem to have even the faculty of the 
school right where they want ’em.” 

It’s simply a-ma-zing I ” 

I am sure Mr. Barry regrets this state of 
affairs as much as I do,” went on President 
Hopkins. ‘‘ We all cannot be winners as we 


234 


The Rambler Club’s 


go through life; and to accept defeat man- 
fully and philosophically is sometimes just as 
creditable as wearing the crown of victory/’ 

I never knew he was capable of remarks 
like that,” observed Benny Wilkins, cau- 
tiously. 

In another part of the room Owen Law- 
rence was saying : 

Mighty fine words ! But I’d a heap 
sooner hear the sound of the axe chopping 
down those no-trespassing signs.” 

I sincerely trust you will think matters 
over calmly. Remember : the boys whom 
you find so much fault with to-day are loyal 
to the school and deeply interested in its 
welfare. Therefore, be sure that your preju- 
dices don’t mislead you ; give them the 
chance they deserve.” 

As President Hopkins closed his brief ad- 
dress a round of applause followed ; but it 
seemed to come from but a very small portion 
of the students. 

“ Ha, ha I You will, will you ? ” laughed 
Alf Boggs, passing “ Crackers ” on his way to 
the class room. Got called down, eh ? Guess 
that’ll hold you fellows for a while.” 


Ball Nine 


235 


“Brown is so pained hell never do it 
again,” chirped Benny Wilkins. “ Give me 
that note-book you promised, ‘ Crackers,^ and 
I’ll make an entry : ‘ End of the Brown agi- 
tation.’ Ha, ha ! Lots of fun going to school, 
isn’t there ? ” 

“ You’ll think so to-morrow,” said Brown, 
ominously. 

With quick, springy steps Owen Lawrence 
reached the side of his chief. 

“ I don’t like the way the president talked 
a bit,” he snapped. “ He practically accused 
us of being hot-headed and prejudiced. It’s 
all very well to talk about accepting defeat ; 
but what’s the use when you don’t have to? ” 

“ There’ll be no accepting defeat here,” re- 
turned Brown. “ What do you think of this 
idea, Lawrence ? ” 

In a low tone he spoke earnestly to his 
companion. 

Lawrence nodded. 

“ A capital scheme, Brown I ” he cried, 
enthusiastically. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE VERDICT OF THE SCHOOL 

If any one ever imagined that Dan Brown 
would be “ held for a while by the president's 
remarks they were sadly mistaken. 

The first thing which attracted Bob Somers' 
eye on reaching school next morning was a 
large poster headed : Indignation Meeting I " 
By Jingo, that's interesting," murmured 
the captain of the regulars, pushing his way 
through the groups toward it. 

Oh, it really is dreadfully awful, Somers I " 
cried Benny Wilkins. “ And everybody 
thinking, yesterday, that that Brown chap 
was squelched." He seized Bob by the arm. 

Come along. He's said something there 
that may hurt your feelings." 

So I suppose you're trying to support me," 
returned Bob. He raised his voice. Hello, 
Dave 1 " 

The stout editor, beaming good-naturedly, 
as usual, sauntered over. 

236 


Ball Nine 


237 


“ The blow has fallen, Bob,^^ he laughed. 
‘‘ Have I read it ? Oh, yes. Not badly 
written, either. I wish Brown would scribble 
an article for the ‘ Reflector.^ 

“ Oh — oh I And after firing everything 
of mine ! ” wailed Benny. IsnT that what 
some one called the ' unkindest cut ’ ? 

Next moment Bob Somers* eyes were scan- 
ning the contents of the two by three foot 
poster, a proceeding which was beset with 
some difficulty, as a great crowd of boys con- 
stantly shoved and pushed each other about 
in an effort to read it. 

The announcement called for a meeting on 
the campus at three o*clock to settle by a vote 
of the school which club should represent it 
against the Rockville team. 

‘‘ The matter has reached a stage when the 
students must decide this most important 
question,” stated the poster. The under- 
signed, who have been working for the good 
of the school, will cheerfully abide by the 
wishes of the majority. And, in order that 
no advantage shall be taken of the regular 
team, we invite them, or any one they may 
designate, to speak in their behalf. 


238 The Rambler Club’s 

‘‘ We call upon all of the students to act 
calmly, and to refrain from unpleasant ob- 
servations or in any way disturbing the peace. 
And we emphatically insist that no one shall 
shirk his duty. Be present without fail — and 
vote.'^ 

The poster was signed by Dan Brown, 
Owen Lawrence and Earl Roycroft. 

“ It’s an outrage, Bob Somers I ” — Harry 
Spearman had reached the captain’s side — a 
direct slap at President Hopkins. Didn’t he 
practically command the fellows to quit this 
row ? Of course he did. For my part, I shall 
insist that not one of our crowd pays the 
smallest attention to their so-called invita- 
tion.” 

‘‘ There will be no soap box oratory from 
me,” declared Bob. 

Nor from me, either,” grinned Dave. I’d 
rather practice.” 

“ All the same, I am fearful that something 
fearful will happen,” said Benny. “ Here 
comes T. Vanitas. Oh, I say, T. Vanitas Clif- 
ton, here’s the shock of your young life.” 

“ You’d better cut out such talk,” warned 
Tom. I absorbed the contents of that silly 


Ball Nine 


239 

thing half an hour ago. It doesn't faze us in 
the least." 

It isn't expected to. But what happens 
this afternoon is." 

The general feeling of unrest and excitement 
so affected the students that work in the class 
room suffered greatly. Professor Ivins was 
much disturbed. 

I declare, Professor Hopkins, I don't know 
what we shall do," he said in the president's 
office. Several of the brightest boys in the 
school failed lamentably to-day. It is deplor- 
able that this thing has taken such a hold 
upon them. Cannot something be done ? " 

If conditions get any worse I shall be 
compelled to take a hand," asserted Professor 
Hopkins. ‘‘ It appears to me that young 
Brown is actually becoming defiant. That 
flaring poster out there is one of the boldest 
things I ever saw." 

It certainly is," said Professor Ivins, sol- 
emnly. 

As the time for the meeting drew near 
Crackers " Brown and his assistants got into 
action. Several large boxes, with boards laid 
across the tops, and designed for use as a 


240 


The Rambler Club’s 


table, were placed beneath the big elm, while 
another box — the speaker's stand — stood only 
a few feet away. 

By the number of students which poured 
out upon the campus it looked as if the “ In- 
dignation Meeting " was destined to be a great 
success. Occasionally, above the medley of 
noises, came the blare of ear-disturbing mega- 
phones or blasts from tin horns. Every cheer 
for Brown was answered with a yell for 
Somers. The fighting spirit of the students 
was aroused, and, in spite of “ Crackers' " re- 
quest, the boys did not refrain from unpleas- 
ant observations. Only the leader of the 
outlaws " and Benny Wilkins wore their 
usual expressions. 

“ Are you going to speak for the Ramblers, 
Mercer?" asked the latter, as he approached 
the manager of the team. 

I should say not I " 

Haven't got the nerve, eh ? " 

Just as you say, Benny. After noting the 
terrible effect of Brown's nerve I feel a little 
shy about cultivating any myself." 

“ Gee whiz I This is the only time I ever 
saw a lot of fellows who were elected by al- 


Ball Nine 


241 


most unanimous consent, and then fired out 
the same way,^’ mused Benny. There’s 
Brown getting up to speak. Wouldn’t I 
laugh if that soap box broke and upset him. 
Rah, rah, rah for Somers I Hooray for the 
Ramblers. Take ^ Crackers ’ down before he 
starts I Don’t wonder he has a buttermilk 
voice — he’s sour I ” 

Dan Brown looked leisurely around and 
began his speech. 

Hooray for Captain Bunderley, hooray I ” 
called out Benny, his shrill tones soaring high 
above all other sounds. 

Not many of the boys could hear the words 
of the coach. It needed a far stronger voice 
than his to overmatch the incessant din, 
which sometimes rose into a loud, swelling 
chorus from every quarter of the campus. 
But that made little difference. A large piece 
of cardboard, hung by several cords from the 
tree, gave all the desired information. 

The proposition to be voted for was : Which 
team should represent the school in the inter- 
scholastic series ; all those favoring the regu- 
lars to state whether the club should remain 
as it was or be reorganized. 


242 


The Rambler Club’s 


Owen Lawrence, who followed Dan Brown, 
and whose vocal organs were far more power- 
ful, promptly demanded to know if any of the 
Ramblers were present. 

We gave them a chance to speak on the 
last occasion, and do so now I he cried, look- 
ing over the heads of the crowd. 

The momentary silence which ensued was 
broken by the voice of Benny Wilkins. 

Hooray for Brown ! he yelled. Hooray 
for Somers ! Vanitas forever I One school ; 
one ball nine ; one everything I Take him 
down from the stand. Here I come I I want 
to make a speech myself.^' 

He was pushing his way forward when 
Parks thrust a very large fist beneath his nose. 

No, you donT, Benny,- ’ he growled. For 
once in your life be serious. This isn’t any 
circus.” 

Jealous because you can’t make a speech 
yourself!” jeered Wilkins. ‘‘I dare you to. 
Let go I I want to say a word for Somers. 
All right, Parksy. I’ll sic Captain Bunderley 
on you.” 

Aleck, with his hand on Benny’s shoulder, 
forced him away. 


Ball Nine 


243 


“ I understand the regulars don’t consider 
this occasion important enough to bother 
about,” continued Lawrence. “ Will you fel- 
lows stand for that? Will you stand for out- 
siders meddling with school affairs — your 
affairs ? ” 

Hooray for Captain Bunderley I ” shouted 
the irrepressible Benny. 

The Somers party attempted in vain to 
stem the tide of enthusiastic cheering which 
greeted Owen Lawrence’s words. 

I knew the boys were with us I ” shouted 
Owen. I feel that by your votes to- 
day ” 

“ You haven’t any right to buy votes I ” 
screeched Benny. 

** I am sure that through the votes you give 
us,” corrected the speaker, ‘‘ the field which 
Mr. Barry has offered will become the prop- 
erty of the school. A decisive victory, 
fellows, will show those who have been so 
stubborn and unyielding that they dare not 
hide any longer behind their refuge of 
regularity.” He turned toward the table. 

Get busy, boys.” 

A half dozen lads, each carrying a box filled 


244 The Rambler Club’s 

with slips of white paper, at once began work- 
ing their way through the crowd. 

Don’t miss anybody ! ” yelled Dan Brown. 

And just let me say this: The fellows who 
fail to vote are mollycoddles. We’ll find out 
who they are.” 

Give me a slip — quick I” cried Benny. 

I want to vote for the Ramblers. No ; I 
won’t shut up, Dan Brown. You never gave 
me the note-book you promised. Hooray for 
Roycroft ! Get away from here, Aleck Parks. 
Your language is always rude.” 

In order to avoid mistakes or squabbling 
over the result we ask every student to put his 
name on the ballot I ” called Brown. 

The noise and arguments ceased. Every 
lad felt the importance of the proceedings and 
wished, if possible, to end the unfortunate 
situation which had hovered over the school 
for weeks. In their eagerness to get the slips 
of paper a jostling, clamoring crowd besieged 
each holder of a box. Occasionally a small 
shower fell to the ground, to be pounced upon 
by those nearest at hand. 

It doesn’t seem as if there are any molly- 
coddles here to-day,” exclaimed Owen Law- 


Ball Nine 


245 

rence, triumphantly. “ See ^em, Earl Roy- 
croft — almost scrapping for the ballots. What 
are you looking so sad about?” 

I feel sorry for the Somers crowd,” an- 
swered Earl. “ They^re all good chaps ; and 
we must give Bob a lot of credit for starting 
the athletic association.” 

^ And us the credit for putting the useless 
thing out of business,” interposed Brown. “ It 
might be a grand proposition for the school 
if the chaps who compose it weren’t so blind.” 

Do you suppose Bob Somers will have the 
nerve to fight the verdict of the school?” 
asked Lawrence. 

We’ll call his bluff, if he does,” answered 
the coach. See how many of the fellows 
who used to shout themselves hoarse for the 
Ramblers have swung over to our side. This 
indifference stunt is the Ramblers’ last grand 
card. Mercer’s face shows that he knows the 
jig is up.” 

We’ll play Rockville sure as shooting,” 
said Lawrence. He raised his voice. Any 
fellow who hasn’t received a ballot please put 
up his hand. Gee — look at that mean little 
codger ! ” 


246 The Rambler Club’s 

Benny Wilkins, showing all the symptoms 
of keen enjoyment, was seen running around 
scattering handfuls of the ballots and leaving 
a trail of white behind him. 

“ I’m going to snow ’em under I ” he cried. 
“ I crammed sixteen down Parksy’s neck. 
Hooray for the good of the school I ” 

“ An unmanageable little duffer,” remarked 
Brown, gravely. ‘‘ We ought to vote on the 
question of allowing him to remain at the 
High.” 

As soon as every one had been supplied 
with a slip collecting of the ballots began. 
There seemed to be few wavering voters, a 
fact which gave much encouragement to the 
“outlaws.” 

Each box, upon being filled, was rushed 
over to the table and emptied. Then the 
tellers began their work of counting. 

The great trunk of the elm partly shielded 
the busy students from a brisk, pleasant breeze, 
which, having no regard for the importance 
of the occasion, apparently strove its best to 
send the white scraps dancing merrily to the 
ground. The soft music of the gently-swaying 
boughs above kept up a steady accompaniment 


Ball Nine 


247 

to the noises which once more broke out on 
the campus. 

A dense crowd surged around the table, 
threatening at times to interfere with the 
work. The Somers party, while refusing to 
admit the right of the “ outlaws to put the 
question to a vote, were bent upon seeing 
fair play. Several of the most aggressive 
struggled through the mass and took up a 
position by the table. 

“ You neednT be afraid, Lou Mercer,^’ 
grinned Owen Lawrence. WeTe giving 
everybody a square deal. Carried the thing 
too far, have we? Maybe — to suit you and 
Bob Somers ; not the rest of the school.^’ 

Incessant calls for information regarding 
the vote were hurled toward the table. The 
boys found it hard to restrain their impatience. 
Only the stern commands of Brown and Law- 
rence kept a semblance of order. 

As the work neared completion the excite- 
ment became so great that a wildly-clamoring 
mob threatened to descend upon the table and 
sweep it, workers and ballots, irresistibly aside. 

You’ll undo the whole business I” shouted 
Lawrence, in alarm. Keep back ! We’ll 


248 The Rambler Club’s 

know the result in a few minutes. Stop your 
shoving and pushing over there. Idl say this 
much : it's a landslide for ” 

“ The good of the school ! " came a rousing 
chorus. 

** Yes I You've hit the ball on the nose." 

At frequent intervals the cheering was re- 
newed. The tabulators worked desperately, 
and when the returns, added on a sheet of 
paper, were handed to Brown, who was still 
standing on the soap box, he was obliged to 
yell himself hoarse. 

“ Keep still 1 " he bawled, holding the 
paper high above his head. “ Keep still I 
The result is " 

'' Order, order ! " shouted Lawrence, fran- 
tically. 

In the midst of a temporary hush. Brown's 
voice rose clearly. 

Out of a total of four hundred and nine- 
teen voters only thirty-seven have decided in 
favor of the regular club ; ninety-eight are 
for reorganization ; two hundred and eighty- 
four — two hundred and eighty-four, mind 
you — a tre-men-dous majority, have come out 
squarely in favor of the ‘ Hopes.' " 


Ball Nine 


249 


The greatest din which the campus had 
ever known was carried off in waves of sound, 
and Brown, for the first time throwing off his 
mask of calmness, shouted and hurrahed as 
lustily as any. 


CHAPTER XX 


THE WISH OF THE MAJORITY 

“ Well, something has certainly happened 
over there, remarked Bob Somers to Charlie 
Blake, as he lined a batted ball back to Single- 
ton. 

I guess I know what it is,’^ sighed the 
“ grind. ‘‘ Suppose, by this time, ^ Crackers ^ 
Brown thinks he^s it.’^ 

In spite of the continual commotion which 
rang unpleasantly in their ears the nine kept 
on practicing, with but a very small audience 
on the field. 

At length the slight figure of Benny Wil- 
kins was seen approaching as fast as his rather 
short legs could carry him. 

Hi, hi, fellows I he gasped. Hi, hi I 
No use for you to play any more. I’ve got 
the awfulest news. Don’t throw that ball, 
Dave Brandon ; it’s no use, I tell you. * Four 
ten p. M.’ — got it all chalked down — ^ Somers 
250 


Ball Nine 


251 


and Company thrown out by more than a 
unanimous vote ! Rambler Club changes its 
name to the Hikers/ 

The sensation which Benny hoped to pro- 
duce did not materialize. The staunch Somers 
adherents who had refrained from voting 
were fully prepared for the announcement, 
while most of the players merely grinned. 

Well, you’re a cool lot I ” growled Benny, 
in disgust. “Haven’t you anything to say, 
T. Vanitas ? ” 

A few weeks before, Tom Clifton would 
probably have made a hot retort, adding a 
few remarks which might have been twisted 
into something highly boastful. Now, how- 
ever, he merely shook his head, and answered 
with a smile : 

“ No news for the note-book, Benny.” 

“ Oh, you’re a peacherino. I thought you’d 
go over and scatter that howling mob single- 
handed. I can see Brown has your number.” 

“ Benny is agitated,” laughed Alf Boggs. 

“ Who wouldn’t be when a chap’s lifelong 
friends are given such an awful sack ? And 
I kept on hollering and hollering * Hooray 
for Somers ! ’ I did so, Fred Benson. Ask 


252 


The Rambler Club’s 


Parksy. Say, for his size, he has the biggest 
fist in school. Going to sell your uniforms, 
fellows ? I know a good second-hand dealer. 
You won't fight this thing, will you, Somers?" 

“ There's nothing to fight, Benny." 

Oh, my, oh, my I If ‘ Crackers ' should 
ever hear that I I'm going to tell him. 
Hooray I Guess that means a bigger scrap 
than ever. Look at this bunch of hotheads 
coming over. Get ready to run." 

Shouts and songs rising on the air and con- 
stantly growing louder announced the ap- 
proach of the crowd. 

Rather fearful that some impetuous stu- 
dents might feel inclined to stir up more 
excitement. Coach Steele stopped further 
practice. 

“ We don't want to give them a chance," 
he explained to Dick Travers. 

The secretary of the athletic association 
nodded. 

‘‘ Quite right, Steele. They're so jolly well 
stirred up that a few words might start a 
near-riot." 

The players quickly gathered up their be- 
longings, and started for the gymnasium just 


Ball Nine 


253 

as the advance guard of the bearers of evil 
tidings ** reached the lot. 

From more than a hundred tongues came 
the result of the afternoon^s work. The 
Somers party seemed to have dropped com- 
pletely out, not even a single cheer answering 
the ringing cries of the exultant supporters of 
“ Crackers Brown. 

Youhe fired out, Somers I ” shouted Aleck 
Parks, with all his force. ‘‘ We didnT ask 
the ‘ Ancient Mariner’s ’ permission to do it, 
either.” 

“ Don’t rub it in. Parks,” expostulated 
Luke Phelps. Don’t you see — the poor 
duffers have given up already. Let’s beat it 
over to the gym and see the final surrender. 
Gee Whitaker, mustn’t they feel cheap I Come 
on, fellows ! ” 

The great crowd promptly fell in behind 
the players, a steady fire of comments passing 
from mouth to mouth. 

Aren’t they a nice lot I ” exclaimed Tom 
Clifton. What do you think of ’em. Bob ? ” 

“ I guess it’s more Dan Brown’s fault than 
any one else’s,” answered Bob Somers. By 
George — there’s another bunch at the door of 


254 


The Rambler Club’s 


the gym. Guess they think the excitement 
isn’t over yet.” 

“ Nice job facing that staring mob ! ” grum- 
bled Charlie Blake. '' Wish to thunder it was 
all over.” 

I almost feel like losing my temper and 
being rude to some one,” sighed Dave Bran- 
don. 

In spite of their feelings the players swung 
toward the gymnasium door with a firm 
tread, passing between lines of deeply inter- 
ested, jostling boys whose sallies and jests all 
allowed to pass unnoticed. 

Inside the big room conditions were pretty 
much the same. But the ball players did not 
pause until the office of the athletic associa- 
tion was reached. 

The indignation meeting had had the effect 
of bringing every officer and some of the di- 
rectors to the scene of action. As they en- 
tered Harry Spearman was found pacing the 
floor excitedly. 

“ Hello, Bob ! ” he called, catching sight of 
the captain. This has been a fierce after- 
noon, eh? Brown carried things with a high 
hand. By George I Let any of you fellows 


Ball Nine 


255 

waver, and I don’t believe I’d ever speak to 
you again.” 

'' No use to get excited, Spearman,” admon- 
ished Sam Randall. ** If there is a sign of 
backdown anywhere I haven’t been able to 
see it.” 

Only because you’reshort-sighted, Sammy,” 
screeched Benny Wilkins, who at that instant 
pushed open the door and peered in. Get 
specs like Brown.” 

“ Sneak away from there I ” cried Harry 
Spearman, wrathfully. Go on, now ; get I ” 

“What’s the matter? Can’t a fellow even 
spy in the open any longer ? Dave Brandon 
said ” 

Harry thrust him aside and slammed the 
door. 

“Those fellows think the thing is all set- 
tled,” he exclaimed. “ If it hadn’t been for 
Brown and Lawrence talking a fierce streak 
to a lot of weak dubs who don’t know their 
own minds ” 

“ Oh, what’s the use of going all over that 
again ? ” broke in Dick Travers, impatiently. 
« Let’s ” 

Bang — bang I 


256 The Rambler Club’s 

Two sharp cracks on the door echoed noisily. 

Come in I called Sam Randall. 

Crackers ** Brown, wearing a solemn ex- 
pression, promptly entered, his lieutenants, 
Lawrence and Roycroft, following close be- 
hind. 

‘‘ Good-afternoon, fellows I ” exclaimed the 
coach of the “ Hopes,’^ without a trace of ex- 
citement in his manner. Gee I Awful big 
crowd in here for such a small room.’’ 

An awkward silence, broken only by the 
sound of footsteps and the scraping of a chair, 
as Sam changed his position, added to the 
pent-up feelings which Harry Spearman was 
finding it hard to control. 

Brown improved the moment by polishing 
his glasses industriously. Then he sidled 
over to the window, where his stoop-shoul- 
dered form was silhouetted in lines of uncom- 
promising hardness against the panes. 

Randall, he began, deliberately, we 
three have been delegated by a number of 
students to bring to your notice the fact that 
the ‘ Hopes ^ have been chosen by a most de- 
cisive vote to represent the school. The thing 
was done fairly and aboveboard. None of 


Ball Nine 


257 

you fellows would even speak a word in your 
own defense/' 

Sam nodded coldly. 

You cannot go against the wish of the 
majority.” The chief “ outlaw ” brought out 
his words emphatically. ‘‘We wish to state 
that the ‘ Hopes ' are going to play Rockville 
Academy on Saturday.” 

“ Are they ? ” cried Harry Spearman, ex- 
citedly. 

“ No athletic association is greater than the 
school it represents. The boys have spoken. 
Listen I Here is the result of the vote.” 
“ Crackers ” could not conceal a feeling of 
elation as he droned out the figures. He 
paused to receive an answer, but, hearing 
none, continued : 

“ This thing ought to be settled amicably. 
If you fellows are in earnest about winning 
that field for the school you'll show it by 
handing your resignations to the board of 
directors.” 

“ Indeed I ” sneered Harry Spearman. 
“ For an absolutely unmitigated piece of 
nerve and impudence that's the worst I ever 
heard.” 


258 The Rambler Club’s 

We didn^t come here, to scrap, but to talk 
quietly over the situation and reach some con- 
clusion,^' said Crackers,'’ smoothly. Now, 
Randall, what do you propose to do ? " 

The athletic association does not concede 
that the school has the right to dictate to it 
in such a way. We don’t intend to ask any 
members of the baseball club to resign." 

“You don't, eh?" burst out Owen Law- 
rence. “ Well, the boys are not going to 
stand for any more exhibitions of obstinacy 
on your part. It's either get out quietly or 
be thrown out I " 

“ We’ll do neither," returned Harry Spear- 
man, crossing the floor to face the new student. 
“ You can’t bluff* our crowd I " 

“No use having a war of words," put in 
Brown, authoritatively. “ I tell you : when 
you fellows refused to play us a series of 

games you started " 

Bob Somers interrupted him. 

“ We'd surely have played your club if it 
hadn't been gotten up for the express purpose 
of chucking us out of our jobs," he said, coolly. 
“ You needn’t shake your head. Brown.” 

“ I was talking to a chap yesterday who 


Ball Nine 


259 

used to be one of your hottest supporters,” 
persisted ‘‘ Crackers.” I asked him if he 
honestly thought the regulars had a ghost of 
a show against the ‘ Hopes.^ He smiled a 
mighty sickly smile. ‘ Not the slightest, 
Brown,^ he flashed back ; ^ the Ramblers 
would probably be wiped off the map.^ ” 

The ^ Ramblers * I ” repeated Harry Spear- 
man. That’s one of your false alarm cries 
that have done nearly the whole business.” 

All your team had to do was to play good 
ball,” returned Brown, dryly. Then no one 
could have kicked. But you lost game after 
game ; and when the boys found that you 
wouldn’t play the ^ Hopes ’ because you ex- 
pected an awful trimming they made up 

their minds to assert ” 

Bob rapped on the table with his knuckles. 
Brown, we have been telling you all along 
that the fellows only needed a little time to 
round into good shape. I’ll admit the 
‘ Hopes ’ are a fine team. But we are strik- 
ing our real gait now, and don’t admit that 
your team is a bit better.” 

“ There’s the plank we stand on,” put in 
Roger Steele. “ Frankly, if you chaps had 


26 o The Rambler Club’s 


caught us unprepared this little disturbance 
would have been nothing to the one which a 
few hotheads would now be engineering.’' 

Ice-water is good for hotheads 1 ” came 
through the keyhole. 

‘‘ Our policy has been dictated by a thorough 
belief in the team,” said Sam Randall, “ and, 
incidentally, we have felt bound to stand up 
for our rights.” 

« We’re to understand, then, that you defy 
the whole school?” exclaimed Owen Law- 
rence. He glared at the boys ranged around 
the table. “Just remember — there’s a big 
crowd in the gym waiting to get your an- 
swer.” 

“ I wouldn’t call it such a harsh word as 
that,” said Sam Randall. “ The fellows are 
temporarily against us ; that’s all. They’ll 
soon see it themselves.” 

“ Crackers ” Brown continued to argue, 
pointing out in his calm way the consequences 
which might result if the regulars persisted 
in their course. Owen Lawrence, of com- 
bative temperament, threatened and stormed. 
Earl Roycroft took a middle course, doing his 
best to act as peacemaker. 


Ball Nine 


261 


But, to their combined efforts, Sam Randall, 
as spokesman of the athletic association, gave 
a final, and negative answer. 

“ All right — nothing doing here I growled 
Brown. There’ll be a lot doing somewhere 
else, however.” 

Crackers ” Brown, with a curt “ So-long I ” 
strode to the door, throwing it open so sud- 
denly that Benny uttered an exclamation of 
surprise. 

Can’t you be more polite when a fellow 
has his eye to the keyhole. Brown ? ” he 
complained. Got thrown down hard, didn’t 
you ? I’m going to tell the fellows.” 

A crowd quickly surrounded the three 

outlaws,” loudly demanding particulars of 
the meeting. 

‘‘No one seems to have any rights in 
this school except themselves,” growled Owen 
Lawrence. “ I thought it would be a waste of 
time to talk to ’em.” 

The boys became angry and belligerent. 

“ They won’t be dictated to by the school, 
eh ?” sneered one. “ Well, we’re not going to 
lose a championship and a dandy ball field 
just for the sake of Bob Somers’ pride. We’ve 


262 The Rambler Club’s 


voted ’em out ; and, by Jingo, they’re going 
out I That^s all there is to it/’ 

'‘And if they try to play Rockville on 
Saturday,” exclaimed Aleck Parks, “ there’ll 
be a nice hot time on the old lot.” 

“ We ought to run them right off the field,” 
added Luke Phelps. 

“ Quit that kind of talk,” commanded Earl 
Roycroft. “ I know you’ll try to stir up the 
biggest row you can. Say, Brown,” he added, 
“ I’m going over to see President Hopkins. 
Maybe he’ll help us straighten out this tangle. 
Get him on our side and those fellows might 
come down from their perch.” 

“ Don’t believe the prin’ll do it,” said 
“ Crackers,” “ but try it if you want. Yes ; 
we’ll wait right here.” 

During the absence of the big first baseman 
of the “ Hopes,” the boys discussed the situation 
in excited tones, some of the more impetuous 
often hurrahing lustily. 

When Earl returned, in about fifteen 
minutes, a rush was made for the door. 

“ How about it ? ” demanded Parks. 

“ President Hopkins says he can’t interfere, 
boys,” answered Roycroft, slowly. “ It’s 


Ball Nine 


263 

mighty easy to see that he^s sore on our crowd, 
too — good as told me so.’’ 

Of course that isn’t any news to me,” 
sniffed Owen Lawrence. ‘‘ Didn’t Brown get 
handed the same dose ? ” 

There’s been enough talk about this thing, 
fellows,” broke in ** Crackers.” He looked 
over the rim of his glasses at the noisy crowd ; 
then, raising his voice so that it penetrated to 
all parts of the big room, he added signifi- 
cantly : “ What we want now is action.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


EOCKVILLE IS PUZZLED 

Satueday ! 

The inter-scholastic series I 

Rockville Academy ! 

These were the thoughts uppermost in the 
boys^ minds, for the great day so long antici- 
pated had at last arrived. 

‘‘ WeTl certainly need all our nerve, fel- 
lows,” remarked Jack Frost,” as the squad 
left the gymnasium. ‘‘ I think we^re in plenty 
good enough shape to beat those chaps ; Pm 
not worried about that. But you may be sure 
Dan Brown is ready to start something.” 

Phil Brentall tossed the ball in the air and 
deftly caught it behind his back. 

“ Looks like it,” he admitted, glancing 
toward the field, where the ‘‘ Hopes ” were 
already busily engaged in practice. 

“ We wonT bother about them, boys,” in- 
terposed Roger Steele. ‘‘ To-day, our business 
264 


Ball Nine 


265 

is to trim the Rockville nine by the biggest 
score we can/’ He laughed dryly. As 
Frost said : I think the ‘ Rambler Club’s ball 
nine ’ is now in a position to hold its own.” 

“ Guess the whole town’ll be on hand to-day,” 
observed Charlie Blake. 1 heard people 
talking about the game last night. Terry 
Guffin is actually going to take an afternoon 
away from his pies.” 

When the players reached the lot Victor 
Collins came rushing up to them. 

“ Hello, fellows I ” he cried. Guess the 
* Hopes ’ are getting ready to build a bonfire 
to celebrate the opening game. They’ve got 
three or four big soap boxes. I asked Brown 
what he wanted ’em for, and he said : * You’ll 
find out before long.’ Is Uncle Ralph com- 
ing ? Why sure I So is ‘ Uncle ’ Steve.” 

I see Brown has been good enough to 
leave us the regular diamond,” remarked 
Coach Steele. Pitch in, fellows. The Rock- 
villes are almost due.” 

I can’t help feeling that something is in 
the wind,” said Dave, as he thrust his hand 
into a mit and started for the outfield. “ Line 
them over with plenty of steam, Bob.” 


266 


The Rambler Club’s 


Dan Brown and the '' Hopes '' were not far 
distant. Their noisy yelling came incessantly 
over the air. 

I^d like to know why in thunder those 
fellows are wearing their uniforms, Sam Ran- 
dall ? exclaimed Harry Spearman. 

“ I suppose they are up to some mischief, 
Harry. Hello, Benny Wilkins I ” He raised 
his voice. “ Toddle this way ! 

Benny, giving Luke Phelps a punch in the 
ribs, immediately darted toward the president 
of the athletic association, hotly pursued by 
the other. 

The crowd, getting in Luke’s way, however, 
soon caused him to desist. 

That’s the time I corked him a real good 
one I ” cried Benny, gleefully. Phelps said 
something rude about Bob Somers. It was 
true, all right ; but I didn’t like to hear it. 
Look at this, fellows.” 

Benny exhibited an enormous book and a 
carpenter’s pencil. 

Gee whiz ! ” exclaimed Spearman. “ What’s 
that for ? ” 

“ I’m going to write a regular serial story 
this afternoon and make a lot of sketches be- 


Ball Nine 


267 

sides/^ explained Benny. “ This is the heavi- 
est ammunition I could find. Some class to 
me, eh ? What did you say, Mr. Randall ? 

“ Why is Brown's crowd practicing to-day ; 
know anything about it? ” 

‘‘ Sure I I've got a whole lot of notes. But 
they haven't passed the censor yet. ‘ Butter- 
milk ' Brown's the censor. Gee — look at 
that I Somers hits the ball so hard it 
smokes." 

“ Run along about your business, Benny," 
said Spearman, in disgust. 

‘‘ Haven't got any business out here. Want 
to see a dandy picture ? I'm almost an artist 
—fact." 

He opened the blank book, and his inter- 
ested schoolmates saw a drawing representing 
a very fat and a very thin boy standing side 
by side. 

Oh, you cheeky little duffer ! " cried 
Harry Spearman. It's Dave and Tom." 

“ It is not. They're over on the field. 
Honest, though, I've got it in for Dave. He 
just handed me back the fifteenth article I've 
written for the * Refiector.' I call that get- 
ting bumped a trifle — don't you ? From now 


268 


The Rambler Club’s 


on I work for the Pie-eaters and doughnut 
syndicate. I’ll make a sketch in water color 
like this for Terry Guffin’s. Suffering Ram- 
blers I What’s all the screeching about ? ” 
The boys wheeled around, to discover the 
Rockville players, followed by a good-sized 
crowd, rapidly approaching. In their natty 
blue uniforms and red stockings, they pre- 
sented a pleasing picture. 

‘‘ A likely-looking bunch,” said Benny. 
Luke Phelps says they can play some, too. 
Hooray for the Rockvilles ! ” 

The bursts of cheering which came from 
various parts of the field evidently pleased 
the visitors, who responded lustily. 

Within a few minutes Ed Barr, manager 
of the team, was conferring with Lou Mercer. 

Not a very extra field, is it ? ” he said, 
eying with disapproval some of the irregu- 
larities which, in spite of the boys’ earnest 
work, were much in evidence. Still, it’s 
just as bad for you as it is for us — that makes it 
even. Your chaps are through practicing, eh? 
All right. We’ll warm up for a few minutes.” 

A feeling of tense excitement was in the 
air ; and when the ‘‘ outlaws ” presently left 


Ball Nine 


269 

off work and sauntered nonchalantly over 
toward home plate this feeling found expres- 
sion in curious murmuring sounds. 

The “ Hopes ” disposed their forms com- 
fortably on the turf, or sat astride the soap boxes 
which had aroused Victor Collins^ curiosity. 

From the players^ bench the regulars keenly 
watched the work of the visitors. 

They seem to have a lot of steam, re- 
marked Steele, reflectively. “See the big 
chap over there in left field. That^s ‘ Pinky ’ 
Crane — plays at first. Pve met him. He’s 
the captain. Nice chap, too.” 

“ At one time, waiting for the game to start 
would have made my nerves rather shaky, 
Bob,” Charlie Blake was saying. “Thank 
goodness Pve a better grip on myself now. 
Honest, though, I might have dropped out 
but for you and Dave. In those days I often 
wished I had Tom’s spunk.” 

The muscles around Tom Clifton’s mouth 
twitched. His thoughts flew back to the 
night when he had almost shown the white 
feather himself. 

“ Gee — if I had I ” he murmured. Then, 
aloud : “ What’s that, Dave ? ” 


270 


The Rambler Club’s 

‘'We want to play such a lively, snappy 
game that the Rockvilles will be kept on the 
jump every second,’’ said the editor of the 
“ Reflector.” “ You’ve gotten down those 
base stealing stunts pretty fine, Tom. Try 
’em for all you’re worth.” 

“ I’ve got ’em right down to the ground,” 
chuckled Tom. “ Ah, but that was certainly 
a pretty catch ! ” 

One of the Rockville players had nipped a 
high fiy and returned the ball to the first 
baseman. 

After fifteen minutes’ practice the visitors 
flocked in from the field, their faces glowing 
with anticipation and expectation. The um- 
pire, already wearing his chest protector, and 
carrying his mask in his hand, detached him- 
self from a group of interested spectators and 
walked to the plate, ready to call out the 
“ Play ball I ” for which so many were im- 
patiently waiting. 

At the precise moment Dan Brown rose 
to his feet, shook the dust from his uniform 
and made for the same point, closely followed 
by his entire aggregation of players. 

This move raised an extraordinary commo- 


Ball Nine 


271 


tion. The low, droning buzz of voices sud- 
denly broke forth into excited murmurings, 
and above this came a renewal of the shouts 
and megaphone calls. 

The members of the Rockville team were 
plainly astonished. They scented an unusual 
situation ; and every face was turned toward 
the heavy, stoop-shouldered form of Crack- 
ers Brown. 

A surging mob quickly surrounded the 
players, forming a solid wall of humanity, 
each craning his neck to look eagerly over 
his neighbor’s shoulder. 

The throng became so dense that the regu- 
lars found themselves on the outside, trying 
to storm the barricade. 

Above the excited jabbering of many voices 

Crackers ” Brown was heard to speak. 

Fellows,” he exclaimed, addressing the 
Rockville nine, I am the coach of the team 
you play against to-day.” 

This announcement, uttered with great dis- 
tinctness, instantly caused a hush to come 
over the crowd. 

For a moment the visitors were too dum- 
founded to speak. Then Captain Pinky ” 


272 The Rambler Club’s 

Crane, suspecting a joke, laughed boister- 
ously. 

‘‘ Not so bad, boys 1 ” he chuckled. ‘‘ But 
I hope you don^t think we^re so easy as that.^’ 

“ I was never more serious in my life,” said 
Brown, sharply. This team ” — he raised 
his hand toward the players packed closely 
about him — “ has been selected by the school 
to represent it. I can prove what I say. If 
you’re ready to start let’s hear the word.” 

He’s always wanting to start something,” 
piped Benny Wilkins from the rear. Isn’t 
his voice peppery though ! Hooray for 
Brandon I ” 

“ But — but — I don’t understand,” gasped 
Ed Barr, quite helplessly. ‘‘ Why weren’t 
we notified ? ” 

“ I take it that you came here to play the 
Kingwood High baseball team,” answered 
“ Crackers,” blandly. “ Here it is. The stu- 
dents have thrown out an arbitrary lot of 
players who absolutely refused to listen to 
reason. They kept on losing game after 
game until the boys wouldn’t stand for it any 
longer. If you don’t believe me take a vote 
on the question right now.” 


Ball Nine 


273 


‘‘ That’s it — that’s it I ” cried Owen Law- 
rence, excitedly. How many favor the 
‘ Hopes ’ ? And how many the Ramblers ? 
he called loudly, raising his hand. 

A rousing, prolonged yell for the former, 
which spread like a flash to all parts of the 
fleld, carried such a strong indication of the 
temper of the school that Captain Crane and 
his men were immediately convinced. 

I don’t know about the regularity of this 
affair,” said Crane. Our crowd didn’t come 
over here to mix up in any row, but to play 
ball, and we don’t care a base hit who takes 
the fleld against us. If you chaps are scrap- 
ping among yourselves that isn’t our business. 
The boys say your team is the one ; so start 
up the game and show us what you can do.” 

Hold on a moment, captain.” 

Coach Steele, Bob Somers and Dave Bran- 
don in a flying wedge were forcing a passage 
through the dense mass of humanity. 

Hold on, captain I ” exclaimed Steele 
again. There’s another side to this story, 
and you’re going to get it right now.” 

Concisely, and with telling effect, the coach 
told of the events which had happened at the 


274 


The Rambler Club’s 

Kingswood High. His flashing eyes and 
vigorous manner, backed up by the cool and 
determined attitude of Bob Somers and Dave 
Brandon, soon made the visitors regard things 
in a different light. 

As Owen Lawrence saw them wavering his 
belligerent manner increased. 

This is the time your bluff wonT work, 
Somers I he cried, angrily. I wouldn’t 
advise you to talk too much, or you might get 
run right off the field.” 

Who’s going to do it ? ” asked Bob. 

I may take a hand myself.” 

Well, you can start a rough-house if you 
like. I can tell you this much, Owen Law- 
rence : the regulars are here to play ball, and 
they’re going to do it.” 

Hooray — hooray ! ” shouted Benny Wil- 
kins. “ There’s sand for you — pure grit. 
Sand is gritty ; so is Somers.” 

The clamor of the excited, jostling mob, the 
yells of encouragement from first one side, 
then the other, and apparently every sound 
which boys are able to produce made such an 
uproarious noise that the voices of the speakers 
were often entirely swallowed up. 


Ball Nine 


275 


One by one the members of the regular 
team fought their way to the center of interest. 

Come now, Somers, be reasonable,’^ pleaded 
Earl Roycroft. “ Can’t you see that by keep- 
ing up this thing you’re liable to start an 
awful rumpus ? ” 

“ You’re the fellows who won’t listen to 
reason,” returned Bob. Why don’t you quit 
this row and let us play ? ” 

‘‘We would if you only knew how,” jeered 
Lawrence. “ Better cool off, Somers. It 
would take only a few words from Brown and 
me to send you marathoning into the distance 
as fast as though a number one size grizzly 
was within a foot of your spiked shoes.” 

“ Talk like that isn’t going to have any 
effect,” laughed Coach Steele. “ Please get 
back. We want to begin the game.” 

Dan Brown’s soft, easy manner suddenly 
underwent a tremendous change. His voice 
became harsh and rasping as he demanded : 

“ What are you Rockville fellows going to 
do ? Do you intend to play us or not ? ” 

“ Pinky ” Crane stared at his companions. 
Being more gifted in ball playing than diplo- 
macy, he was plainly stumped. 


276 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ It’s too much for me,” he confessed, 
blankly. How about it, Barr ? ” 

The manager, a sturdy young fellow with a 
strong, aggressive chin and an equally posi- 
tive manner, kicked at the turf a moment 
before replying. Then, looking squarely into 
“ Crackers ” Brown’s face, he exclaimed : 

“ This is what I have to say : we’ll play the 
regularly organized team. No mushroom 
nine for me.” He shook his finger vigorously 
in the chief outlaw’s ” face. Now beat 
it ! Enough of this fuss. We’re going to 
start.” 

Very good, sir I ” Brown’s former manner 
returned. We’re ordered to skip, Lawrence. 
There is nothing to do but follow the man- 
ager’s instructions. Sorry, boys, to have 
annoyed you so much. Really, your manner 
quite pained me. No hard feelings, I hope ? ” 
None at all,” said Barr, heartily. 

The sudden and unexpected crawl ” of the 
** outlaws ” was so amazing to their supporters 
that howls of protest and derisive cries arose 
from every point in the gathering. 

‘‘What in thunder is the matter with you, 
Brown ? ” roared Aleck Parks, furiously. 


Ball Nine 


277 

“ I thought he was going to fight the thing 
out to a finish/' groaned Luke Phelps. ‘‘ And 
the crowd is with him as solid as a stone wall. 
Hang it all, but I am disgusted I " 

The regulars were as much astonished as 
any of the others. 

When the three leaders of the “ Hope " 
movement turned away, and the crowd scat- 
tered as promptly as though blown about by 
some current of wind, they began to congratu- 
late each other. 

The discontented majority, however, refused 
to be quieted. Feeling ran so high that it 
seemed as if a riotous demonstration might 
begin at any moment. 

Get the game started as quickly as you 
can," ordered Coach Steele. 

‘‘ It's the only way to quiet 'em," agreed 
Barr. Never expected to run into anything 
like this. Let's toss up for choice of innings." 

Bob's side having won, the visitors started 
for the players’ bench. 

As they did so they saw something which 
caused them to utter loud exclamations of 
astonishment and anger. And what they and 
every one else saw was bringing shouts of 


278 The Rambler Club’s 

approval and encouragement from a mass of 
turbulent boys. 

The home plate and each of the three bases 
was covered by a large-sized soap box, and on 
every box sat a grinning youth. 

What does this mean ? '' cried Ed Barr, 
fairly racing to the home station, where Dan 
Brown occupied a prominent position. 

“ What does this mean ? ” echoed ‘‘ Crack- 
ers.^^ He looked calmly at the agitated man- 
ager. It means just this, Barr : no game 
will be played here to-day unless we do our 
share of the playing.” 


CHAPTER XXII 


PLAIN TALK 

The field was in an uproar. The gleeful 
supporters of the “ Hopes/' at this new turn 
in affairs, roared their approval. And through 
all the turmoil and confusion the “ outlaws 
who were not sitting on the bases gathered at 
advantageous points on the field, apparently 
ready and anxious to resist any attempt to 
put them off. 

When Bob Somers, followed by the rest of 
the team, came running over a hostile demon- 
stration broke forth. 

Get off the field ! " shouted one. 

We want real ball players I came from 
another. 

‘‘The school won't stand for your kind of 
playing I " yelled a third. 

The small minority still loyal to the regulars 
voiced a vociferous protest, and, backing up 
279 


28o The Rambler Club’s 

their words with action, gathered about the 
players. 

“ Chase 'era right off the field, boys I " 
bawled Owen Lawrence. 

The body-guard, fearful that his order 
might be carried into execution, prepared to 
meet the emergency with every means at their 
command. 

This is an outrage I " yelled Harry Spear- 
man. I protest." 

Keep on protesting — that's all the good it 
will do you," sneered a partisan of the 
‘‘ Hopes." “ We'll show you the kind of stuff 
we're made of." 

“ No game to-day unless we play it ! " came 
from Brown. 

Bob Somers leaped on the soap box from 
which the chief “ outlaw " had just arisen. 

“ I call upon every fellow who believes in 
fair play to listen," he cried in ringing tones. 
“ We haven't been given a square deal. Every 
player on this nine is going to stand up for 
his rights. Threats and yells won't make us 
quit. I only ask you to be reasonable ; 
to " 

The soap box was shoved violently from 



THE SOAP BOX WAS SHOVED VIOLENTLY 



Ball Nine 


281 


beneath his feet, and the captain, obliged to 
jump, brought up violently against a group of 
yelling outlaws.” 

Turning like a flash, he looked squarely 
into the angry face of Owen Lawrence. The 
lieutenant of ‘^Crackers” Brown, so wrought 
up with excitement that his face was of a 
purple hue, was brandishing his fists savagely. 

‘‘I did it, Somers I” he yelled. ‘‘Pitch 
right in if you want to. I’m ready I ” 

In a second the two were surrounded by a 
densely-packed mob, while cries of “ A scrap — 
a scrap ! ” had the effect of bringing from all 
sides large reinforcements. 

“ We’re not going to lose those grounds just 
to suit your bump of vanity, Somers,” howled 
Lawrence. 

A big boy, ruthlessly thrusting aside all who 
impeded his progress, quickly jumped between 
the two. 

“ Cut it out, Owen Lawrence I ” cried Earl 
Roycroft, sternly. He pushed the belligerent 
student away. “ If you don’t look out you’ll 
start such a muss that there’ll be no stopping 
it.” 

“ Then they’ll have to chase right off the 


282 The Rambler Club’s 

field ! ” cried Dan Brown, in a voice which no 
one would have recognized as his. Are you 
going, Somers ? 

The chief ‘‘ outlaw's " words promptly undid 
the effect of Roycroft's action. Surrounded 
by his opponents, the captain of the regulars 
speedily found himself being pushed and 
jostled off the diamond. 

At the same instant a combined rush 
was made for the other members of the 
team. 

Almost swept from their feet by the fierce- 
ness of the attack, they struggled valiantly to 
stem the tide. Above all the frantic shouts 
and cries, ‘‘ Crackers " Brown was heard to 
yell : 

‘‘ Keep the bases covered, boys I Don't 
budge from the field I " 

“ You bet we won't I " shouted Aleck Parks. 
“ Whoop I Shove the Ramblers right along, 
fellows ! " 

The fellows were doing it. In the hands 
of the enemy " the players were as helpless as 
chips upon a seething torrent of water. They 
quickly lost sight of one another, each com- 
pelled to fight his battle alone, for the body- 


Ball Nine 


283 

guard which at first had so valiantly attempted 
to aid them was already widely scattered. 

Bob Somers, thoroughly surprised and 
indignant, appealed vainly for order. Then, 
feeling that resistance was useless and ill- 
advised, he allowed the irresistible tide of boys 
to sweep him where they willed. 

^^Now, I wonder if you’ll listen to the 
school ! ” cried Luke Phelps, giving an extra 
hard shove. I only hope the ^ Ancient 
Mariner ’ is seeing this. What’s your awful 
haste, Somers? ” 

Well, if we don’t play to-day it’s a mighty 
certain thing the ‘ Hopes ’ won’t,” returned 
Bob, energetically. 

‘‘ Boys, boys, what is the meaning of all 
this?” 

The familiar tones of President Hopkins’ 
voice, suddenly rising sharp and clear, quelled 
the tumult around the captain. 

Stop ! — I command you to stop this dis- 
graceful scene at once I ” he called, sternly. 

They deserve to be suspended ! ” came in 
the sonorous voice of Captain Bunderley. 

The boys, taken completely by surprise, fell 
back in dismay before the president. 


284 The Rambler Club’s 

But the reaction was only momentary. 

“Hold the bases and keep on the field!'' 
Dan Brown was yelling with all his force. 
“ Don't let the Ramblers sneak back a yard 1 " 

“Stop, I say; stop!" repeated President 
Hopkins. His usually good-natured face was 
glowing with keen indignation. “ You are 
acting most outrageously ! " 

“ They're a lot of good-for-nothing young 
scamps ! " thundered Captain Bunderley. 

“ Scamps ! " screeched Owen Lawrence from 
a distance of twenty-five feet. “ Why, we're 
only doing this because they need to have 
some sense beaten into their heads." 

“ Listen to the bass voice of him ! " piped 
Benny Wilkins, whose necktie and collar had 
been torn loose and who was trying desperately 
to make some entries in his big book. “ Hur- 
rah for ‘ Pinky ' Crane ! " 

Professor Ivins, standing by the side of the 
president, stared at him in amazement. 

“What does he mean by such conduct?" 
he murmured. 

Bob Somers, cool and collected, although 
his face was fiushed from his exertions, found 
himself facing not only the two professors and 


Ball Nine 


285 

Captain Bunderley but Mr. Rupert Barry and 
‘‘ Uncle ” Steve. And behind these he saw a 
great body of spectators. 

“ Uncle Steve was evidently wildly excited. 
His expression seemed to indicate an intense 
desire to join in the fray himself. The strong, 
angular face of the millionaire exhibited every 
trace of the greatest astonishment. He stood 
grasping his knotted stick as though half ex- 
pecting that the next moment he might be 
called upon to use it as a means of defense. 

“ Boys, boys ! ” His harsh, rasping voice 
compelled instant attention. ‘‘ This disgrace- 
ful commotion must cease. I want that Brown 
chap to come right over — do you under- 
stand?^’ He struck the ground vigorously 
with his cane. ** To come right over, I say I ” 
He’s done all this mischief 1” bellowed 
Captain Bunderley. 

I’ll find out mighty quick how such 
riotous scenes can go on in the midst of a re- 
spectable community. What is the name of 
that other boy, captain ? ” 

Lawrence.” 

Oh, yes — Owen Lawrence. Some of you 
boys find Lawrence — tell him to come here 


286 The Rambler Club’s 

immediately/' Mr. Barry glanced toward 
Bob Somers. Did they do any more than 
hurt your feelings ? " he demanded. 

No, sir ; not a bit. And they didn't do 
much of that, either," answered Bob, wiping 
his perspiring face. 

I see you still have your nerve with you. 
Where is Roger Steele ? " 

Roger Steele I " howled Benny ; Roger 
Steele ; Mr. Barry wants you I " 

A movement in the crowd indicated the 
approach of Brown and Lawrence. 

The chief ** outlaws " seemed entirely un- 
abashed. 

‘‘ I believe you sent for me, sir," began 

Crackers " Brown, bowing politely to the 
millionaire. 

He braved unflinchingly the hard, cold 
glare which Mr. Barry turned upon him. 

His attitude seemed to irritate the would-be 
donor of the ball park. 

‘‘ What have you to say for yourself? " he 
demanded, harshly. ** I know you're the 
ringleader in all this business." 

“ Yes, sir ; he was the whole show in the 
circus," chirped Benny Wilkins, who had 


Ball Nine 


287 

squeezed his way to the front. “ Owen Law- 
rence was only the clown. He did what the 
ringmaster told him to do, and then a bit 
more.^’ 

Be quiet, Wilkins,^^ admonished Professor 
Ivins, startled into speech. “ I'm positively 
amazed at you." 

Now, Brown, speak up," commanded Mr. 
Rupert Barry. 

“ I've just been waiting for a chance," said 
‘‘ Crackers," calmly. First of all, Mr. Barry, 
I’d like to ask you a question : when you 
made the school the offer of a ball park didn't 
you say positively that only a winning team 
would secure the prize? " 
did!" 

Well, the nine first chosen to represent 
the school doesn’t represent it, because it isn’t 
a winning team. Unusual conditions require 
unusual treatment. The school finally woke 
up and chose a team that is winning games 
and does represent it. And certain fellows 
who think more of their jobs than they do 
for the good of the school insist upon defying 
the wishes of the majority." 

Crackers " proceeded to explain matters 


288 


The Rambler Club’s 


from the very beginning. He asserted 
emphatically that none of the boys had the 
slightest wish to make trouble. 

1^11 admit we did go a bit too far to-day. 
But, when you consider all the circumstances, 
can you blame us ? 

Yes, we can, and do,^^ spoke up Bob 
Somers. But for the spirit of discontent 
you stirred up among the boys, and their 
unwillingness to give us a fair show, things 
by this time would have been mighty dif- 
ferent. How can you expect a team to do 
its best with the school fighting against it ? 
Don’t you know that the effect on the players 
is bad — it puts a tremendous strain on 
them.” 

“ It certainly does ! ” exclaimed President 
Hopkins. 

We’ve held out against you in this affair. 
Brown, because every member of the team 
knew it was only a question of our being 
given enough time to round into shape.” 

“ There is the whole story,” put in Coach 
Steele. To have yielded to your demands 
would have meant an outrageous piece of in- 
justice.” 


Ball Nine 289 

Indeed I jeered Brown. “ How much 
more time do you want ? 

‘‘ We don^t want any. The nine has been 
hard at work every day until I can now safely 
say the players are in top-notch condition.'^ 

‘‘ Let ‘ an eccentric old creature ^ settle this 
dispute/^ said Mr. Barry, with appalling dis- 
tinctness. 

Tom Clifton, who, a moment before, tower- 
ing over his neighbor's shoulder, was promi- 
nently in view, now shifted his position so 
that his face was no longer in line with Mr. 
Barry^s eagle glare. To his horror, Benny 
Wilkins burst out laughing. 

Ha, ha, ha I giggled Benny. And I 
know who said it, too.’’ 

The tall boy’s nerves tingled with appre- 
hension. It was a moment of intense relief 
when Mr. Barry, paying no heed to the inter- 
ruption, continued : 

Frankly, I was not satisfied with th^ 
team’s showing, and I dropped many remarks 
to that effect during several of the games. It 
didn’t occur to me at the time, but I’ve 
learned since that some of them acted upon 
the boys with extraordinary force.” His cold. 


2go 


The Rambler Club’s 


penetrating gaze shifted from one to another. 
“ I understand your position, Brown ; and I 
understand the position of the regulars, too.^^ 

Not a sound came from the crowd as the 
elderly gentleman, tapping the turf impa- 
tiently with his knotted stick, went on : 

Any lot of boys who have the courage 
and fighting spirit to stick it out in the face 
of such a confounded row must be made of 
pretty good stuff. Confidence in oneself is 
half the battle in life. This is what I have 
to say : The lads may be able to do what they 
claim. If they show as much grit and deter- 
mination in the coming games as they have 
during the past few weeks they ought to win 
the championship.^^ 

“ But suppose they should lose?’^ broke in 
Brown, doggedly — ‘‘ then the school loses, too, 
doesnT it ? 

“ We must give them a chance in the inter- 
scholastic series. If the nine starts off with 
reasonable evidence of being winners — all 
right; if they donT” — the millionaire 
paused — then we shall talk about the matter 
further.*’ His voice rose harshly. '' Let me 
add a word of warning : If the work of the 


Ball Nine 


291 


team is in any way interfered with, or if there 
are again such scenes as have taken place here 
to-day, I withdraw my offer — the knotted 
stick struck the ground a violent blow — re- 
member that ! ” 

The turn of the regulars to applaud had 
come at last. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


BOB SCORES AT LAST 

‘‘ Hit it out, Dave ; hit it out I 

** Jeffords is losing his nerve I YouVe got 
him going I ” 

Knock the cover off the ball.” 

Slam out a homer I ” 

It was hard to realize that the lot only 
fifteen minutes before had been the scene of 
the greatest confusion. The spectators were 
now as orderly as active, wide-awake lads 
could be. All signs of ill-feeling seemed to 
have disappeared as entirely as though such 
a thing had never existed. Mr. Barry's warn- 
ing had sunk in deep. 

The “ Hopes,” satisfied at last that their 
chance would come if the regulars failed to 
make good, became so mild as to cause Benny 
Wilkins to make several entries in his note- 
book. 

‘‘ They are just like little lambs,” he ob- 
292 


Ball Nine 


293 

served. ** Look at Aleck Parks with a sen- 
sible expression on his face.’^ Then, catching 
sight of a very tall youth, he called : Hello, 
John Hackett, hello ! Have you any ten 
cent neckties in the shop ? IVe got to pay 
a bill for the afternoon’s scrap. Swing at it, 
Brandon ; swing at it ! Bert Jeffords can’t 
pitch, and never could pitch. Who dis- 
covered him ? ” 

The twirler for the Rockvilles grinned good- 
naturedly. He had a variety of curves at his 
command, and good control. His next de- 
livery was an unusually speedy ball. 

Dave Brandon, however, had found his 
batting eye. As he struck with all his force 
at the inshoot the stick met the ball squarely, 
and a smoking hot liner whirled past the 
pitcher. 

Jeffords’ gloved hand shot toward it but 
missed. Even the Brown crowd joined in the 
roar of approval which rose from hundreds of 
throats. 

Oh, wasn’t that a peach of a hit I ” cried 
** Uncle ” Steve, rising from his seat and almost 
dancing with excitement. “ Root, professor, 
root I ” he cried, bringing his hand down 


294 The Rambler Club’s 

sharply on Instructor Ivins’ shoulder. 
“ Hooray — he’s safe I ” 

The professor’s dignified countenance 
fiushed. He gingerly withdrew from such 
close proximity to the little man, at the 
same time eying him with a most peculiar 
expression. 

“ I’m astonished, sir,” he began, stiffly. 
‘‘Well, I ain’t I” cried “Uncle” Steve — 
“not a bit of it. Jeffords ain’t in the Tippen 
class. Hold your base there, Brandon ; look 
out, or he’ll nail you I ” 

“ One safe hit doesn’t make a game,” growled 
Mr. Barry. “ Still, this is encouraging. 
Who’s up now, Mr. Kimbole? ” 

“ That slim lad, Charlie Blake.” 

“ Good ! He seems to be a heady player, 
though he hasn’t as much bulk or muscle as 
I’d like to see.” 

The “ grind ” had managed to cast off all 
feelings of nervousness and excitement. He 
was determined to do his share toward show- 
ing that Coach Steele’s claims were entirely 
justified. At the second ball pitched, he 
bunted, the horse-hide rolling tantalizingly 
near the third base line. 


Ball Nine 


295 

Before the pitcher could pounce upon it 
Blake was safe at first and Dave Brandon had 
reached the second sack. 

But the inning so auspiciously begun did 
not fulfil the hopes aroused in the hearts of 
the Somersites. Bob’s high fly to deep left 
field was caught; Phil Brentall fanned. 
Then, after a hard run, Sawdon nipped Alf 
Boggs’ foul. 

Well, it’s all a part of the game,” said 
“Uncle” Steve, resignedly. 

“ Those boys are simply bound to succeed!” 
exclaimed Captain Bunderley, in a tone of 
deep conviction. 

“ Just what I think, too,” agreed Mr. Kim- 
bole. 

Sawdon’s catch, which was made close to the 
backstop fence, ended the second half of the 
first inning. Rockville had been easily dis- 
posed of, chiefly due to Singleton’s pitching. 

The latter appeared to be at his best, start- 
ing out on the second round with confidence 
and determination. He sent the ball over the 
plate with a speed and accuracy which bewil- 
dered the batsmen. In succession he struck 
out two ; the third was thrown out at first. 


296 The Rambler Club’s 

They are all right on the defensive/^ said 
Mr. Barry. Yes ; the boys do seem to have 
improved. 

For five innings neither side scored. At 
the beginning of the sixth the friends of the 
visitors were given a chance to yell and shout 
in the most uproarious fashion. Bill Allen, 
according to Benny Wilkins, started the ball 
rolling.” 

And it rolled so far that by the time the 
stout editor of the Refiector ” succeeded in 
laying his hands upon its stained and battered 
surface Allen was on his way to third. 

‘‘ Bad, bad business,” grumbled Mr. Barry. 

By George, they are going to score this 
time.” 

Looks like it,” mumbled “ Uncle” Steve. 

Take him out of the box I ” howled Benny 
Wilkins. Hooray for ‘ Jack Frost ^ 1 ” 

Nothing ruffled Singleton, however. He 
was there to do his best, and he was doing it. 
He surveyed the big, husky form of Joe Wiles, 
third baseman, without trepidation. 

“Give me the best in the shop,” called Joe, 
shaking his bat suggestively. 

Brentall signaled for a high inshoot. 


Ball Nine 


297 


The pitcher snapped the ball toward him, 
putting forth all his efforts to fool the batsman. 
Next moment, however, a prolonged groan 
announced that his attempt was wasted. The 
shrieking, gleeful Rockvillers, waving every 
available pennant, saw the ball shooting be- 
tween first and second with terrific speed. 

Bob Somers made a wild attempt to stop 
it, but the sphere bounded high over his 
head. 

Meanwhile Bill Allen was trotting leisurely 
for home. 

‘‘ Sic a Goose Hill gander on Singleton I 
shouted Benny. He^s only good at pitching 
quoits. Get him a doughnut — quick. 

No — he takes the biscuit I ” yelled Aleck 
Parks. ^‘One run, and nobody down.^^ 

“ I remember when I should have called 
that an exhibition well worth missing,^' ob- 
served Mr. Barry, with a sort of half chuckle. 
He smiled grimly, as a Rockville supporter 
was heard exclaiming : 

“Did you ever see anything prettier in 
your life I ” 

Jeffords, the next batter, hit safely, advanc- 
ing Wiles to second. 


298 The Rambler Club’s 

Singleton, catching a nod from Coach 
Steele, with a sigh walked toward the players^ 
bench, while “ Jack Frost,” glad to get into 
the fray, dashed to the mound. 

“ Too bad my wing went back on me,” ex- 
claimed Singleton, as the two passed each 
other. “ Good luck, old boy.” 

‘‘ Jack ” signalized his advent in the box 
by promptly striking out the next batter. 

When John Appleby walked briskly to the 
plate a storm of approval from the visiting 
contingent clearly demonstrated to the pitcher 
that he was considered one of the star ” 
hitters of the aggregation. 

“ Now is the time for some of your good 
stickwork, old boy I ” yelled one. Two 

men on bases and only one down. Start *em 
around the circuit I ” 

The runners on first and second were doing 
all in their power to worry the twirler — play- 
ing off and running back. 

“ Take a few yards more, Wiles I ” bawled 
the coach at first. ‘‘ He wonT throw it I ” 
Jack Frost ” realized that it was the crit- 
ical juncture of the game. The sight of 
“ Crackers ” Brown and Owen Lawrence not 


Ball Nine 


299 

far from the grand stand nerved him to 
do his utmost. 

Here'S where I’ll have to put everything 
I know on the ball,” he reflected, warily 
watching the antics of the base runners. 

He wheeled abruptly around and shot the 
ball with all his force toward the batsman. 

His heart gave a sudden thump as an omi- 
nous crack sounded. 

The “ slugger ” Appleby had hit a low 
drive which was whizzing with terriflc ve- 
locity to the right of second base. 

“ Safe — as sure as shooting I ” groaned 

Jack.” 

Bob Somers, with only one glance at the 
oncoming sphere, dashed toward it like a 
flash. It seemed almost a hopeless chance. 
The base runners, confldent that the ball 
would pass over his head, obeyed the instruc- 
tions of the coach to run. Benny Wilkins 
started to make a note : High school team 
goes to pieces in the sixth.” The shouting 
of the Rockville adherents burst forth in a 
wild series of whoops. 

Then all the racket stopped with curious 
abruptness. 


The Rambler Club’s 


300 

As the liner sped high above Bob Somers’ 
head the second baseman sprang in the air 
with upraised hand. There was a resounding 
smack. The ball, arrested in its flight, 
dropped to the ground a few feet away. 

Bob darted upon it, whipped the sphere to 
Tom Clifton, and Appleby was out. 

The calm was over. Forgetting unpleasant 
differences, the school voiced its approval in 
a sea of sound. Benny hastily scratched out 
his note. 

‘‘ One-eightieth of a cent’s worth of good 
lead pencil gone to waste,” he muttered. 

Oh — oh I What do you know about that ? 
Is Wiles wild ? ” 

Joe, making a tremendous effort to score, 
was speeding home when, to his unbounded 
astonishment, he discovered that the ball was 
in the first baseman’s hands. Then, out of 
the corner of his eye, he saw it flashing 
straight for the catcher’s mit. 

Turning abruptly, he made a wild dive to 
regain the third sack. A volley of cries rang 
in his ears. 

‘‘ Get back I ” 

Hold your base I ” 


Ball Nine 


301 


** Slide — slide I ** 

Obeying the instructions of his friends, 
Wiles threw himself at full length on the 
yellow, dusty line. 

But before he was within a foot of the goal 
the ball streaked over his head, Fred Benson^s 
hand dropped on his forearm, and the only 
sound which Joe heard clearly was the voice 
of the umpire yelling : 

Runner out at third ! 

A mighty pretty piece of work,^' com- 
mented Mr. Rupert Barry. 

A Jim dandy cried Uncle ’’ Steve, 
hilariously. ** Regular major league work, I 
call it.»^ 

I knew they would turn out all right ! 
exclaimed Captain Bunderley, his eyes shin- 
ing with satisfaction. I never lost faith in 
^em — never ! 

Victor Collins and Joe Rodgers, fairly danc- 
ing with glee, took turns with the bugle, 
sending its musical notes far over the air. 

There^s the enemy of the ‘ Pie-eaters * 
going to bat now,^^ remarked Nat Wingate to 
his chum, John Hackett. 

‘‘ Only wish I had the stick in my hands,'' 


302 The Rambler Club’s 

said Hackett. ** I'd break it in half and 
knock the cover off the ball at the same time. 
Say, Nat, maybe the Stars wouldn't wade 
through this Rockville bunch I " 

I won't be satisfied until we get a crack 
at 'em," grinned Nat. Bet they don't score 
a run." 

Look out for your heads, fellows," coun- 
seled Ted Pollock. Tom Clifton's going to 
swing, and " 

Suffering geese, he's cracked it ! " roared 
Uncle " Steve from the grand stand." “ A 
pippin, too ; right over the second baseman's 
head. Hooray I He runs like an express 
train." 

Hot and happy, Tom Clifton reached first 
in safety, while cries of ‘‘ Good work, old boy ; 
good work I " made his grin grow broader. 

‘'Here's where we start things, ‘ Pinky ' I " 
he cried, exultingly. 

“ Don't fool yourself. You won't travel 
very far," grinned the captain of the Rock- 
villes. 

“ Play off the base, Tom," urged “ Jack 
Frost," who was coaching at first. “ Jeffords'll 
never be fast enough to get you." 


Ball Nine 


303 


At the precise second that Jeffords pitched 
the ball Tom^s long legs began to move at 
such an extraordinary rate as to cause mur- 
murs of wonderment to come from the on- 
lookers. 

By cracky, he can go faster^n the ball I 
shouted Uncle Steve. 

Professor Ivins scowled. He looked at the 
Goose Hill storekeeper with an air of pro- 
found disdain. The spectacle of a man of 
Mr. Kimbole^s age acting in such an undigni- 
fied fashion rather shocked his sensitive 
nature. 

If I were in your place I should 
hardly 

Bully boy I roared Mr. Kimbole, sud- 
denly. Bully boy I He beat out the ball 
by a good two yards I 

The field was in an uproar again. 

But the noise was as nothing compared to 
the tumult which broke out when Tom, on 
the twirler’s second throw, once more dared to 
match his speed against that of their op- 
ponents. 

Bending far over, he tore down the third 
base line with all his might, and, with the 


304 The Rambler Club’s 

frantic shouts of the crowd ringing in his 
ears, slid for the sack, sending up puffs of 
whirling yellow dust. 

gum, I’d like to have you on our 
side,” said Joe Wiles, generously. 

He lined the ball to Jeffords, while Tom 
scrambled to his feet, dusted his uniform and 
surveyed the situation keenly. 

“ This means a run, old boy,” he exclaimed, 
confidently. 

“ Extra — extra I ” came from somewhere in 
the assemblage. All about the terrible 
robbery — ball player steals two bases. Who 
wants a copy of the high school ‘ Reflector ’ ? 
Only five cents. Read Dave Brandon’s thrill- 
ing piece of fiction. Greatest story since the 
days of Munchausen I ” 

Benny Wilkins, with an armful of papers, 
was screeching at the top of his voice. 

“ Why, he’s actually selling them 1 ” cried 
Tom, almost stunned with amazement. 

Sure I I’ve seen him sling out a dozen 
already,” grinned Wiles. 

Pitcher and catcher, who had been in con- 
ference for a moment, once more took their 
places. 


Ball Nine 


305 

None down, Bob. Sting it for all you’re 
worth,” shouted Tom. 

“Two balls I ” droned the umpire, presently. 
“ Strike one I ” 

Then Bob Somers was seen to make a lunge. 

The ball rose in a long, graceful curve, 
shooting far beyond the point where John 
Appleby, right fielder, was playing. 

“ I told you so I ” cried Tom. 

Over on the “ grand stand ” Mr. Rupert 
Barry’s face actually broke into a smile. 

“ Fine work — a three-bagger, Professor 
Hopkins,” he said. 

“ Very good indeed I” exclaimed the pres- 
ident. “ I should have been sorry to see 
such courageous boys fail.” 

“ Looks to me as if they could deliver the 
goods,” piped “ Uncle ” Steve ; which style of 
language so displeased Professor Ivins that he 
remained ominously silent. 

Bob raced in home when Brentall singled. 

“ Extra, extra I ” cried Benny. “ Get the 
latest news I All about the Rockville nine 
going to pieces ! ” 

With Victor Collins and Joe Rodgers, he 
headed a little procession around the field, 


3o 6 The Rambler Club’s 

with the object, he candidly confessed, of 
rattling the visitors as much as possible. 

The next batter, Alf Boggs, was thrown out 
at first. Tom Clifton's hopes that a half dozen 
runs would cross the plate before the inning 
was over were shattered by the downfall of 
‘‘ Jack Frost " and Art Bowers. 

In the eighth the high school team, by a 
tremendous effort, scored another run, and the 
Rockville boys then walked to the players' 
bench for their final turn at the bat. 

But their heroic efforts were without avail. 
When the last putout, a difficult running 
catch by Dave Brandon, signalized the end of 
the contest the score stood three to one in 
favor of the high school. The yells, cat- 
calls and general noise made the audience in 
the grand stand " hastily withdraw. The 
staunch Somers party fairly howled with glee, 
and even Crackers " Brown was heard to 
say : 

Not so bad— but " 

But what, Buttermilk ? " inquired Benny. 

If the ‘ Hopes ' had been up against that 
crowd ril bet the score would have been 
about seventeen pies to one small doughnut." 


Ball Nine 


307 


“ You’ve got a better team than the regulars 
any day,” said Benny, with a tremendous 
grin. “ Extra — extra I Full account of the 
latest boasting by the Brown crowd. Get a 
high school ' Reflector ’ I Five cents. Tells 
how the Ramblers beat Gulliver at his own 
game 1 ” 

A joyous group collected around the reg- 
ulars. They slapped Bob Somers on the back, 
ill-treated their tired lungs once again ; and 
all this failing to give sufiicient vent to their 
enthusiasm, they waved purple and white 
pennants until their aching arms finally re- 
belled. 


CHAPTER XXIV 

THE HOPES ” AKE BLASTED 

Several weeks later the baseball season 
was in fall blast. The “ Rambler Club’s ball 
nine ” didn’t always win in the inter-scholastic 
series ; but they had so many victories to their 
credit that further opposition to their repre- 
senting the school was never heard. 

Well, fellows,” remarked Bob Somers, one 
day, as they lounged about in the grateful 
shade of the big elm tree on the campus, it 
certainly paid us to stand up for ourselves.” 

Sure as doughnuts, those no-trespassing 
signs are going to come down,” chirped Tom 
Clifton. “ Yesterday, five to three, against 
the Hilltons 1 That’s not so bad, is it ? ” 

Dave Brandon, leaning comfortably against 
the trunk, and reading a book of Bryant’s 
poems, smiled. 

‘‘ How different the situation is from the 
time when Brown’s friends were gently urging 
us to leave the ball field,” he laughed. Now 
everything is lovely.” 


308 


Ball Nine 


309 


The Stars far outclass any of the school 
teams weVe met,” observed Charlie Blake. 
‘‘ So do the Goose Hill and Willingtons. The 
fight we had against those clubs must have 
done us an awful lot of good, eh, Bob ? ” 

‘‘You bet it did,” responded the captain. 
“It made most of the other nines seem easy. 
Now that our batting average is getting higher 
and higher I guess it's about time to accept 
Brown's standing defi and play the ‘ Hopes ' a 
series.” 

“ So say we all,” remarked Dick Travers. 

“I certainly laughed when the ‘Hopes' 
played the Stars and Tony Tippen pitched a 
no-hit game,” said “Jack Frost.” “ It took 
that fire-eater, Owen Lawrence, down just a 
trifle, I can tell you. I just couldn't help 
rubbing it in a little bit.” 

“ And I fairly hammered it in,” gurgled 
Tom. “ Lawrence will play against us as hard 
as he ever did in his life. Fired any more of 
Benny Wilkins' articles, Dave ? ” 

“ No ! I can't understand why he didn't 
give me a couple this morning,” answered the 
editor. “ The thirty-seventh showed a lot of 
improvement. I suppose I'll have to accept 


310 


The Rambler Club’s 


something before long, because he’s sold more 
papers than any other boy in school.” 

“ That’s a great picture he made of you and 
Tom,” chuckled Sam Randall. It cost Terry 
Guffin one ninety-eight to have it framed.” 

“ Good for Terry,” laughed Dave. He 
has the only real art gallery in town.” 

One afternoon about a month later, as school 
let out, Benny Wilkins, with an enormous 
bundle of papers under his arm, began yelling : 

Get a copy of the high school ‘Reflector ’ 1 
Read B. Franklin Wilkins’ great article on 
the baseball situation. A ^plcy, up-to-date 
account, with the opinions of the author added 
free of charge. Five cents — flve cents the 
copy. Catch the definite article., , Well worth 
a quarter. Who’s the lucky buyer of the 
first copy? Everybody speak at once. Two 
cents down — the rest in instalments I ” 

Benny’s appeal met with instant response. 
He was besieged, literally hurled off his feet 
by the onslaught. 

Aleck Parks did the upsetting part. 

“ Excuse me, Benny,” he said, helping the 
lad to arise ; “ excuse me. I’ve got only a 
cent, but I’ll give you my note for the rest.” 


Ball Nine 


3^1 

“ All right/^ chuckled Benny. Fll make 
a note of it. Say, Parksy, your manners cer- 
tainly need a bit of floor polish.^’ 

Benny^s stock of ‘‘ Reflectors ” dwindled at 
an astonishing rate. 

Bob Somers and Dave Brandon lingered 
until the crowd had cleared away ; then Dave, 
with a sigh of relief, ambled toward the big 
elm. 

** That place seems to be just made for me,^^ 
he said. While I^m taking a well-earned 
rest, Bob, I^d advise you to glance over B. 
Franklin Wilkins^ article.^^ 

“ Just what I^m going to do,^^ chuckled the 
captain, as he opened the paper. 

Tom, laying aside his manners for the time 
being, looked eagerly over his shoulder to 
read : 

** B, Franklin Wilkins on the baseball situation. 
With his observations on the past and pre^- 
dictions for the future, 

“ This has been a season of blasted ‘ Hopes.’ 
They started out meaning well, and, ‘ for the 
good of the school,’ withdrew. It is little 
things like this which break the monotony of 


The Rambler Club’s 


312 

student life, though for a time it looked as if 
something more valuable than monotony 
would be broken. 

As I have frequently said in my articles, 
none of which, however, have been printed — 
this is no reflection on the editor; lack of 
judgment is born in some people — the begin- 
ning of the season found a lot of wildcat 
hunters, would-be aeroplanists and house-boat 
racers trying to play ball. 

“ This is, as Shakespeare was too far behind 
the times to say, ‘ the limit.^ It was up to 
the limit of what the school could stand. 
After hitting the top of the toboggan with a 
dull and deadly thug they started to slide 
down, the rasping sound which accompanied 
them being furnished gratis by nearly every 
boy in school. 

At the bottom of the chute they accepted 
an invitation from Daniel Brown and friends 
to take a well-earned rest — * for the good of 
the school.’ My observation on monotony 
and breaking things applies mostly to this 
case. Wildcat fighters are often very tame at 
home, which is conceded to be a good thing. 

What would have happened if they had 


Ball Nine 


313 


brought their * forest * manners back to the 
school you can imagine by reading a serial 
now being published in the ‘ Reflector/ 

“ Just as they were about to get the final 
boost Mr. Rupert Barry appeared and handed 
something to Mr. Daniel Brown which sounded 
like a cannon cracker going off in an empty 
barrel. 

“ That's when the ‘ Hopes ' got blasted. 

Since then the Rambler Club's ball nine — 
I've ordered the editor not to cut out the name 
— has been going from victory to victory in 
exactly the same manner they were boasting 
about before any playing was done. 

You can't blame a lot of fellows for mak- 
ing a great blow when they have the goods in 
the shop. They had just been mislaid, and 
not even the manager could find them. 

** But the excitement during the search was 
something awful. The writer's efforts to be 
on both sides at the same time nearly ruined his 
nervous system. He found himself, at times, 
delivering punches impartially to either side. 

We will now speak of a little tussle 
between Bob Somers' Bear Cats and Dan 
Brown's ^ Hopes.' 


314 The Rambler Club’s 

It was certainly the greatest ball game 
ever played — in Kings wood. Thousands upon 
thousands of spectators were on the field — 
anyway, the figure runs up to a good many 
hundred — but that doesnT look well in print. 
For eleven innings they fought in a most 
desperate fashion, both sides winning by the 
score of three to three — because, if neither side 
actually won the game, each won a lot of praise 
for staving off defeat. Three more games have 
to be played, and a few mean people are pained 
to think that an admission fee canT be charged. 

The writer has said as many nice things 
about the team as he can, hoping to get on 
the good side of the editor. That scribe 
doesnT write so much better himself. 

** Another thing I must mention : No team 
has been able to beat the Stars with Tony 
Tippen in the box. The ‘ Hopes ^ have tried 
it twice; and each time it was dangerous to 
speak to Owen Lawrence for at least two hours 
after a certain little row of ciphers had been 
chalked down in the run column. Tippen is 
a pippin. 

Coming back to the Kingswood High : 
The writer can almost picture in his mind a 


Ball Nine 


3*5 

nice level field with a grand stand and crowds 
of spectators watching a game. 

“ May this be no trick of the imagination I ” 

“ Whew ; maybe that isn't a whopping long 
article I " cried Tom. ‘‘ Not so bad, eh, Dave?" 

“ It's Benny Wilkins all over," chuckled 
the editor. That chap has certainly boomed 
the circulation of the paper." 

As a prophet Benny was in great favor. 
Now that his article had been accepted he 
became a most enthusiastic champion of the 
team, and his delight at each victory was 
only matched by his disappointment when 
defeat came to the earnestly-striving ball 
players. 

“ Never mind — they're going to get there 
just the same," he always asserted. 

The games between the ‘‘ Rambler Club's 
ball nine " and the Hopes " attracted even 
more attention than those in the inter-scho- 
lastic series. Each was bitterly fought, the 
Somersites winning two and the Hopes " 
one, with the fourth a tie. 

Neither ** Crackers " Brown nor Owen Law- 


3i 6 The Rambler Club’s 

rence would ever concede the superiority of 
the others, while big Earl Roycroft expressed 
the opinion that they were about as evenly 
matched as teams could be. 

It was certainly a great year for baseball at 
the Kingswood High. With the school now 
solidly back of them, the nine continued to 
improve, and at the end of the season Mr. 
Rupert Barry was the first to shake Coach 
Steele and Bob Somers by the hand. 

Let me congratulate you,’^ he said, heart- 
ily. “ You have won not only the ball park 
and grand stand, but my highest esteem, as 
well.” 


Other Stories in this Series are : 

THE RAMBLER CLUB AFLOAT 

THE RAMBLER CLUB’S WINTER CAMP 

THE RAMBLER CLUB IN THE MOUNTAINS 

THE RAMBLER CLUB ON CIRCLE T RANCH 

THE RAMBLER CLUB AMONG THE LUMBERJACKS 

THE RAMBLER CLUB’S GOLD MINE 

THE RAMBLER CLUB’S AEROPLANE 

THE RAMBLER CLUB’S HOUSE-BOAT 

THE RAMBLER CLUB’S MOTOR CAR 







Stp 13 1913 










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